Life Beyond the Shadow
by TheFreelancerSeal
Summary: What happened to the hero who killed the 16 Colossi? What became of the woman he risked it all to save? What kind of life can she live now? Post-game
1. Prologue: Legions of Stone

**A/N: **Ok, here we go again. I posted this story once before, but didn't get much of a reception to it. So, finally, I took it down. But, I like the idea, so I decided to do it again. I've never played SoTC, but I've read about it and heard it was really good. So, I wanted to write my own story...again. lol. Anyway, here's the first part.

P.S. Credit goes to S. A. Thorup for letting me use her story, Cursed Fate as my setting. If some of this doesn't make sense, I would read that one first.

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**Prologue: Legions of Stone**

Many in the kingdom had seen them dotting the landscape here and there. In every village, every location, from the southern town of Daerh, north to the spanning plans of Udel with their nomadic inhabitants, east to the great city of Elba Celes shining white like a spire of pearl in the sun, and west to the small ocean towns, people saw these series of stone statues, always standing in perfect columns of five across and six down, thirty in every group. What were they? None knew for certain. For over a century, people marveled at them, carved images of priests by the looks of them. What was truly marvelous was that even after a century in the open countryside, none of the groups ever saw decay. Even the intricate markings on their perfectly carved robes remained readable. Why there was not even a clump of moss that grew to the legions of idols.

Rumors abounded of their origin and purpose. Some villages held them in high esteem, declaring them the statues of priests of old who had obviously done much good in their lives; why else would the gods not permit their markers to see ruin if not to honor their righteousness? For such holy remains of a long-forgotten order, grand temples and shrines were erected, most notably at Elba Celes. When the people tried to move the statues into such magnificent structures, however, the images would not even budge.

Others said less-flattering things, calling the figures works of demons, citing their unknown symbols as heresies. Cursed they were named and many had attempted to put the hammer to them to prevent whatever blight they might bear from reeking destruction only to be either stopped or struck down by some unseen power. Such things only frightened the people all the more, prompting the construction of great barriers or trenches around the images. This was never more apparent than on the plans of Udel and its neighboring lands where even to touch these was punishable with death by a poisoned blade. In those lands, not an animal or even careless child was spared such a fate, a fate normally reserved for those intended for sacrifice.

Whatever the case, the statues found reverence or fear for a time and then they passed into legend or myth eventually returning to discovery. The cycle had not yet reached rediscovery. Except for but a few shamans, none even knew of their existence, and those few who did shared nothing, not even speculations of them.

In a large, overgrown forest near a northern village called Herin, one group stood out from all the rest, though there were none who knew this. Largely, it was just like any of the other groups of statues; thirty altogether, five across, and six down. At their head, however, an image carved differently than all the others stood, raising the number to thirty-one. Down the middle of its stone robes ran a series of even stranger markings; all the others either had no symbols or symbols on each side. A hat of some sorts, perhaps a headdress for great ceremonies rested upon its head. Judging by its round base and flattened top which extended into a cap, it could be nothing else. Were the others truly images of priests, one could say this was the image of a high priest.

Silently and still as was the legion behind it, it stood there undisturbed until one day. Though none saw it, what happened that day surely would've thrown all of Herin into anarchy and mayhem until there was not one man or woman left there. A light formed on the fingertips of the ancient high priest; a light the brilliant color of sapphires when hit by the sun. Like lightning, the light branched out like a fissure along the idol's hand and up its arm forming unknown runes and emblems along the stone limb. Similar markings traced their way along the other side of the statue. The lights continued up and up reaching the shoulders in the blinking of an eye were an eye there to see it. They were about to cross the neck and meet when at once they retreated back the way they came. As quickly as they had appeared, the sapphires were gone, vanishing without any trace. The runes they had woven never even left a mark on the stone. The forest would keep its secret still. Whatever event was soon to take place would not. What mystery surrounded the statues would stay hidden still.

One light however returned. On the third finger of the high priest's right hand, a tiny sapphire sphere ignited once more. It rose like it had done before, but now much slower and pausing many times. Still, it rose and curled nonetheless. Perhaps not now, but someday it would cover the idol as it had intended.

Would it be a day of rejoicing when the light covered the statue? Perhaps it would. Or would it be a day when the bells in every tower would clang a melody of doom? Only time would tell the outcome. For either good or ill fortune, time would bring truth to this mystery.


	2. Chapter 1: Uncertainties

**A/N: **I would've had this up sooner, but the site decided to mess with me. I hope you like it.

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**Chapter 1: Uncertainties**

Lord Emon sat alone by his small campfire with his face in his hands. Three days had passed since he sent his soldiers back to Daerh, but he remained just outside his small village. Some had seen him, but none dared approach him. Had they done so, they would've seen the shaman pray, though mostly he just wept. He had failed. Seven days prior, he'd witnessed the rebirth of the greatest and the most terrible being the kingdom ever knew. He had hoped to prevent that. What's more he had caused the death of his most promising student, and a friend no less. He tried to rationalize what he had done. Wander should have known better; he had known better. Yet, he chose to ignore all he had been taught and for what?

_Her,_ the shaman thought. He'd risked his own life, his own soul, for her. Part of him chastised his pupil for such recklessness, such foolishness, yet another couldn't help but admire Wander's heart. He loved her, the shaman knew this. He loved her with a fire that not even death could've extinguished. But, in the end, the part of Emon that was a dedicated priest won out, and he gave the order to kill Wander.

For the past three days, Emon pondered the course of events. He pondered hardest over what to tell Wander's young brother.

"Kyle expected me to save him," he muttered. "What can I tell him? I failed him, I failed Wander…" he trailed off.

A worse thought crept into the priest's mind. He'd sealed Dormin away once more, but he doubted it would make a difference. The deity was no longer divided into the sixteen pieces he once was, pieces that held his full power at bay. If anything, though Emon was not sure, he was merely rendered dormant. He was certain that all he had succeeded in doing was prolong the inevitable. The seals were weakening; he could feel it.

With a sigh, the shaman stood and threw a handful of earth over the campfire. He'd put this off too long. With a final look back at what he was sure was his friend's final resting place, he walked slowly and solemnly back to the village. He came to the house that Wander had lived in. He happened to catch one of the handmaidens in the hall. Emon cleared his throat to get her attention. She jumped slightly, caught off guard by the shaman's quiet entrance. She looked towards him and bowed.

"Oh, my lord," she said quickly. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Kyle here?" Emon asked with a hard voice. The girl nodded. "Fetch him for me."

Moments later, the servant returned with Kyle at her side. Upon spying Emon, the boy quickened his pace, tearing away from his escort and bounding down the hall. Kyle stopped mere inches away from colliding with the man.

"Did you find him?" the lad asked hopefully.

"Kyle," the priest began with a hint of sadness. He held out his arms. "Come here."

The boy walked into his arms and looked up at Emon with large eyes. As he looked down into those expectant brown eyes, the shaman's face fell. "I'm sorry, Kyle," he whispered with a shake of his head. "I'm so sorry," he repeated a bit louder.

Kyle's eager smile faded, and his mouth formed a line. "Where's Wander?" he asked, the happiness in his voice ebbing away.

Emon let out a long breath through his nose. He hated the very thought of the words he would have to say.

"Wander is…dead."

A gasp escaped the handmaiden's lips. The shaman looked up to see her covering her mouth with her hands. Emon looked down to see tears forming in Kyle's eyes, and the lad let out a long, loud scream. Kyle took hold of Emon's robes and buried his face in them, wailing at the top of his lungs. Emon only wrapped an arm around the boy, unsure of what to think. Did Kyle blame him? He had the right to.

"What happened?" Kyle asked still sobbing.

The question struck Emon hard. The boy also had the right to know his brother's fate, but it was a right he would be denied. What could the shaman say? He certainly couldn't say what he had seen. Kyle was far too young to understand. He searched for an explanation that would not be a lie, yet would be enough to satisfy the howling lad, though everything he thought of was either too complicated or outright deceitful. "He," the shaman began. "Wander was skilled with a sword, even for a priest. It takes a beast greater than any other to kill a skilled hunter, and Wander faced beasts that would make even the most skilled hunters fearful…and they were too much for him."

The boy pulled away from Emon. His little face quivered, and his cheeks turned red. His hands tightened into fists which clenched and loosened. "This was her fault!" Kyle shouted referring to Mono. "I wish she never came here!"

Emon tried to calm the lad, but Kyle resisted any comfort.

"I hate her!" he cried.

Emon grabbed Kyle's shoulders and shook him firmly. "Don't you ever say that," he commanded sternly. "Do you understand me, Kyle? Don't ever say that again!"

Kyle frowned and stormed off. He didn't care about what he had been taught. His brother would still be alive had it not been for her. In his heart, Kyle hoped the girl was still dead. Also in his heart, he knew such thoughts were wrong. Still, he wanted someone to blame for taking his brother from him.

Meanwhile, Emon held a hand to his forehead and sighed. That was the reaction he expected, though it also was far worse than what he had expected also. He never thought an eight year old boy could feel such anger and such grief.

"Where's his body?" the handmaiden asked suddenly, though she caught herself in the middle of it, after realizing she had not been addressed.

"Consumed by the land," the shaman answered quietly. He rose and gave a nod to the girl before departing. Outside, he took another look towards the south. He wondered what his friend's true fate had been. Some part of him hoped that somehow Wander was alive. No matter what had become of him, Emon hoped sincerely that Wander was still alive.

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The moonlight shone down upon the garden, and the stars twinkled brightly in the sky above. Mono laid herself down, resting her back against a large piece of stone. She took in a grateful breath. Argo stood nearby, the horse already sleeping, and on her chest laid the horned infant she had found. He squirmed restlessly for a time, and she set him on the ground. She already nursed him, so she didn't know why he was so unstill. She watched him crawl and smiled to herself. She'd sometimes thought about what would've happened had things been different. Likely, she would've been offered to a man in her village; women weren't allowed to choose their husbands where she came from. She thought about what it would've been like to be a mother, though Mono admitted this was not exactly what she had in mind.

Mono stretched and let out a contented sigh. She felt safe here in this shrine; she couldn't recall feeling more at home. Her past experiences reminded her, however, that when she felt the safest, she was often in the most danger.

Her stomach growled, demanding some nourishment. She had not eaten very much since she found herself here, except for the fruits she was able to knock out of the trees. She'd found a few roots, but was unsure if they were poisonous or not. Even the lizards she'd seen looked appetizing, though she hadn't been able to catch one. What surprised the girl is that she barely noticed her hunger. It was more of an annoyance than anything else, like being caught in the rain. Though she was starving, she did not feel at all weak. The same could be said of her thirst. She felt it, but it was as if it was not even there.

"I wonder if it's the land," she thought aloud. She remembered Wander telling her about this place, though even he seemed to know very little about it except what he had been told. Perhaps the land itself sustained her in some way.

"Wander," she said with a little sadness. She missed him. She had Argo and this strange infant, which she guessed was all that remained of him. Somehow, she remembered his promise and remembered catching a glimpse of him as he fought for her soul, though such flashes were quite foggy, almost dreamlike to her. She thought of when she first met Wander and how kind he was towards her; a mere stranger and one regarded as demonic for that matter. She remembered the kiss he gave her. Even in her dying moments, she was glad to have seen him one last time; kissed him one last time. Mono sniffed and wiped away a tear.

Mono giggled just then. She looked down to see the baby playing with her feet. He curiously grabbed at her toes and wrapped his little fingers around them, his tiny hands becoming covered with earth. She wondered there was any trace of the man who loved her; the man she loved. The baby made a noise as if in answer to her thoughts. Though Mono could not be sure, she thought the baby was saying her name. A smile appeared on her face, and she reached down to pick him up. She looked into his tiny face.

"Wander," she whispered to herself. She placed the baby on her chest again, and this time he yawned and fell asleep. Closing her eyes, Mono soon followed him.


	3. Chapter 2: Simple Prizes

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long to update this. With school and my other fics, this kinda got pushed to the back. Plus, I was unsure of how to write this one, but I finally got something. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

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**Chapter 2: Simple Prizes**

_Five Months Later_

The winds began to grow colder, the grass seemed stiffer, and the trees began to turn colors of red and gold. It was autumn now. Mono hugged herself against the chill breezes that blew over her garden home. She looked back at the child lying on the ground behind her, wrapped in a makeshift cradle sleeping away. On one occasion that she ventured back down into the shrine itself, she'd found a large, gray cloth. She'd wondered how she would shelter the baby, the baby she'd named Wander for her lost love, from the elements. She also wondered how she would clothe him when he grew. A tear formed in her eye. _If_ he lived to grow was more fitting. Mono couldn't help but cry a little. How could she live in this land? She was not a hunter, she was not a forager, and she knew nothing of survival. In fact, during her flight from the priests of her home, she never once tasted food; unable to hunt game and unwilling to steal. She did not expect any of them to last the coming winter.

She shook her head and returned to the task at hand. A white-tailed lizard was standing on a rock near where she stood. If she could catch it, she could at least provide some nourishment to herself. The fruits were satisfying, but she wished for meat. She already bore bruises and scratches from trying to climb the trees for their juicy prizes. She looked down at the dried blood on her leg where once she'd been cut from one such attempt. If this smack creature could fill her stomach and not result in injury, she'd gladly learn how to catch it. Quietly, she crept towards the stone. The reptile only turned its head to look at her. Mono froze where she stood afraid to take even a breath. She's scared away numerous lizards, even birds that she hoped to dine on. Even slower now, she tiptoed closer to the rock. The lizard let out a puzzled noise. Mono bent forward and began bringing her arm out. The girl swallowed and nervously licked her lips. Then, she struck. Mono's eyes widened in astonishment; the lizard was in her hand, squirming desperately to escape. She searched for a blunt rock and killed the lizard, though she felt some hesitance to do so. Perhaps it was because she had also been remorselessly killed, but she felt such reluctance to take another life. Still, she knew she must survive for the child's sake. Although she had not died of hunger and thirst even after going without food or water for days on end, she did not wish to try the gods who must have granted her such mercy.

After she'd prepared the small portion of meat with a number of small twigs she'd found to start a fire, Mono said a quick blessing and popped a piece in her mouth. Though it was far too hot to eat, she cared not. It was the first taste of meat she'd had after all the months she'd spent here, and even if her throat ended up scalded, to taste it would be worth the price. She could not describe the flavor of the lizard. It was certainly unlike any meat she'd ever eaten before. And while the idea of lizard meat was still somewhat repulsive to her, Mono ate with gratitude.

She looked over to see Argo eyeing her portion. The stallion snorted and limped over to her, nudging the back of her neck. Mono laughed at the sensation of his breath. She turned and stroked the horse's face. She recalled first seeing this great horse, larger than any she had seen before. She recalled Wander's kind gesture in letting her ride Argo and then later giving her the horse. She hadn't thought of it then, but perhaps the horse would've been an engagement present had fate been kinder.

"I don't think you'd like this," Mono joked. Her expression fell slightly. "I wish I had corn to give you," she whispered. "I wish…I wish Wander was here with me."

She wiped away a few tears and then resolutely pushed the thought of her lover out of her head, though it pained her to do. After she'd eaten, Mono looked to the trees hoping to spy some leftover fruit fallen from the limbs. She pondered what would happen when winter finally came. She did not dwell long on those thoughts. She knew she would likely die then but decided instead to find pleasure in what days remained. Finding a fruit on the ground, she held it out to Argo who sniffed it then took it from her, wetting her palm with his tongue. Mono then knelt by the horse and felt his left-hind leg. She noticed him always limping on it. She knew little of horses, except riding them, but she hoped he would recover. He was the only thing she had left of Wander.

A loud cry filled Mono's ears just then. She looked over to spy the infant wriggling as much as he was able in his cloth crib. She had a feeling of what he wanted. Pushing on her knee to stand, Mono walked over and picked up the child. She pushed one arm out of the sleeve of her gown and let the garment fall slightly. The baby quieted as he took to her. It never ceased to surprise Mono to see milk on the baby's face after he pulled away. She smiled at the thought that she, she who had never bore a child or even known a man, could provide for this child. She remembered the first few days of trying to nurse him even though she knew she could not. Still, she had hoped it would quiet him, so she let him suck. And then whether by mere will or perhaps the favor of the gods, she first saw the little, white spots; spots that meant nourishment for the young boy. Mono wiped the child's mouth with her hand and then fully dressed herself. Holding the baby to her face and cuddling him, Mono decided on something then and there. She would do all she could to live through the coming winter.

_I must live_, she swore to herself. _For him, wherever he is now, and for this child entrusted to me. _

She looked skyward hoping that somewhere Wander was looking down on her. She would live for him. She had to.

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**A/N:** Well, I thought I'd tell you now, this may go slowly. This story will cover a number of years, but I wanted to write about some of the "highlights" of Mono adjusting to her life now that she's on her own. There's a lot of material there to use, and I thought people would be asking, "how could she survive?" So, these chapters will probably be short, and some may say pointless, but like I said, lots of material to use.


	4. Chapter 3: Preparations

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long, but better late than never. I just finished it today. Enjoy.

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**Chapter 3: Preparations**

The sun rose that morning shinning on Mono's sleeping form. For the maiden, dawn came all too soon. Blinking, rubbing her eyes, and shaking off the dew that collected on her gown and hair, Mono sat up, stretched and rose to her feet. It was now mid-autumn, if she counted right. She had tried to learn how to count the days by the cycles of the moon. If she was correct, she would have at least two and a half months before winter. A breeze blew over her, chilling her damp body. She would have to reside inside the shrine below from now on.

Mono's throat felt somewhat dry and scratchy, and she coughed a few times. She prayed she was not about to fall ill. If she had any hope of living to see the next spring, she could not afford sickness. She resolved to endure come what may, and she had every intention of holding to that. After catching and preparing a lizard and some still-lingering fruits, she ate and fed Argo, whose injured leg seemed to be getting better although she doubted he would ever be the grand stallion he once was. Once she'd eaten, she nursed Wander and rocked him a few times until he fell asleep. After wrapping him in the gray cloth she found, her own shroud she guessed, she set to work.

All day long, Mono walked from the garden into the shrine carrying bundles of fallen sticks. Her long pace took her down the winding path to the empty pool where'd she first found Wander, and in a lonely corner, she piled the twigs. It was a place that would stay dry, she hoped. She would need every branch, every limb, and every small piece of wood to stay dry or they would be of no use to her when winter came. Sometimes she resorted to climbing trees and attempting to tear the already dead limbs from them, but more often than not, a fall was her reward. After one such fall, Mono just laid there, bruised and slightly bleeding. Turning her dark eyes skyward she cried out to the gods.

"What have I done to deserve this?" she wailed. "Was I so cursed to deserve this fate? You spare me hunger and thirst to die at winter's hand or at the hands of the trees. What do you want from me?"

She closed her eyes and laid still. After a time, the cries of Wander brought her from the depths and she tended to him before returning to her toils.

By the end of the first day, Mono was exhausted. She rested against a stone in the garden unable to take another step, let alone carry the baby, light as he was. One more in the garden night wouldn't make much difference she decided. Mono groaned wearily. Her feet were sore from the constant walking, which sometimes took her past the altar in the shrine and out into the land itself. A few of her toes bore bruises from the occasional misstep. Her back ached. Her heart ached. In fact, her entire body ached from falls out of the trees. How she longed for a hot bath and a warm bed that night and also some remedy for her throat which continued to irritate her. She coughed and laid back to sleep. Mono thought back at life beyond this place, beyond the shadows of this 'cursed' land as Wander had once called it when he was still alive, or still a man at least. She thought of all she had hoped for. She thought of the few friends she'd made in her village. She wondered if her mother and father still lived, or if the priests had killed them, thought it was unlikely. Her parents never defied them, even when her life, the life of their first-born child, was demanded. But when she thought of Wander, the clouds and shadows of her life seemed to dissipate. She thought of their meeting, and the kiss, and even the possibility that he may have asked her to marry him; a fine possibility that was, uncertain but still a fine possibility. It was to that thought that Mono slept.

When Mono woke the next morning, she felt colder than usual. She felt a slight tingle on the sides of her feet, and her gown appeared to be wet. As she opened one bleary eye, she saw white all around her. Sitting up, the girl rubbed her eyes and looked with surprise at the sight before her eyes. A light frost blanketed the garden. She had not expected this, not this soon. She looked at the bundle of cloth on the ground near her in which baby Wander still slept. She quickly snatched up the child and hurried down into the shrine before returning to lead Argo inside the ancient structure as well. As she led the horse, Mono winced with every step as she walked with bare feet over the frosted earth. Each step brought the frigid barbs, so cold they burned her, into the soles of her feet. Still she bore the cold as best she could until the frost gave way to equally cold, but slightly more tolerable, stone. As she settled by her small wood pile with the baby and Argo, Mono felt her heart sink. Her spirit fell further by the rise of a cough in her throat. She was falling ill. Sickness or no, however, she had to press on. She looked at the child who was just now stirring, wiggling in his wrappings.

"You will live," she declared, her voice hoarse. "No matter what, you will live."

She rose and gave the child suck before returning to work. All day, she walked upon the frosted earth, gathering more and more sticks. She rarely stopped, except to tend the baby and Argo. She wished she had taken some of the cloth she'd used to cover Wander to wrap her feet. But she could not bear the thought of even slightly robbing him of warmth. Still, she would have not argued about a pair of shoes. Even her old sandals would not be disagreeable.

Like her hunger and thirst, she felt the sting of the frost, the illness within her, the bitter winds, and even her weariness, but she also felt as if they were insignificant. To her, it felt as though she could even be entombed in ice and snow in her bare skin and not freeze to death. But still, while she felt such vitality, she did not feel it wise to test it so. At the end of the day, Mono lit a small fire in the shrine and moved as close as she could to it, letting it warm her tired and chilled body. She also wrapped herself in the cloth, holding Wander close to keep him warm also. Moving a safe distance from the fire, she finally slept.

Daily, Mono continued her labors, trying to forage enough food for each day and gathering any loose wood she could find. Even in illness and utter exhaustion, she somehow found the strength to rise and work. For days, she walked over frost, stone, and dry grass on feet that were blistering and sometimes bleeding. Still, she pressed on. As she did, she became ever more convinced that something in this land both nourished and sustained her. What it was, she could not say for she did not know. It astounded her that while she felt everything, it was almost as though she felt nothing at the same time. She did not know whether to regard this as a curse or a blessing.

"Perhaps, I am meant to live to see you grow," Mono thought aloud as she rocked Wander to sleep one night. To her, that was an encouraging thought. Yet, there was another thought as well; the thought that she was in far more danger in this temple, this very land than she was when she fled her people.


	5. Chapter 4: Winter's Chill

**Chapter 4: Winter's Chill**

Mono shivered even wrapped in the large cloth. Argo lay behind her, and she leaned against the great stallion's flanks for warmth, but even the horse's flesh offered little. Even the fire she'd started could not warm her. The cold, gray stone of the Shrine of Worship lay beneath her chilling her legs. She'd plugged the smaller cracks in the walls and the space under the doors with dead brush. Still, through the openings above her and near the altar, the bitter cold found it's way to her. Wander lay in her arms crying incessantly even after being nursed and rocked.

The ebon-haired woman looked around her and gave a sigh visible in the frigid air. Winter had finally come. The snows had forced her inside. Around the altar, she saw small drifts growing larger as the winds blew in more and more snow. Though she could not see it, she guessed the skies were as bleak and dismal as this temple. Hardly any light could be seen. Though she'd gathered as much wood as possible during the autumn months, Mono was utterly convinced all three of them were going to die.

The winds howled outside sending more snow into the shrine near the altar. For three days, the blowing snow kept her from food. Though she wished not to tread on the snow unshod as she was, she would've done it for nourishment. She peered at the baby still crying. She wondered how long her breasts would nourish him before they, like her spirit, run dry. He would surely die first, and she would most likely follow. Or perhaps the strange power in this place would let her live, condemning her to a thing far worse than death: a life spent in grief. She looked around again at the temple, gray, dreary, void of life save herself, a horse, and a horned infant. Whatever god this place was built to honor had seemingly abandoned it and likewise abandoned her.

In hunger, thirst and despair, she turned her eyes skyward wishing she had not awakened here. How she wished she had stayed dead. Better to die and remain so than rise again only to die shortly after.

"Perhaps it would be better to get it over with," Mono said. The cloth she sheltered herself under would do just fine. She set the child down on the floor and covered him with the cloth, intending to take his life first. She could not bear the thought of him wasting away from hunger. He would die, then she would see it that she would follow. All that remained was to hold the cloth over his tiny nose and wait for him to pass.

"Forgive me, Wander," Mono said despondently. "I've failed us both."

She took her hand and prepared to do the deed. Slowly, she moved her hand closer and closer. It seemed a kindness to do this thing; to have some control over how and when they would leave this world. But try as she might, she could not bring herself to press her hand onto the cloth and smoother the baby, _her_ baby.

_What nonsense,_ Mono chastised herself inwardly. _Let us both die here. What reason to we have to live; none. We'll both either freeze or starve to death, so why not die now and be done with it?_

With those words, she again tried to end the young life before her. But again, she could not do it. She jerked the cloth away from him and again wrapped the two of them up. Mono leaned against Argo's flank once more. She held out a finger for Wander, which he took and wrapped his tiny fingers around. "How can I feed us both now?" she asked.

As if in reply, she heard a faint squeak off to her right. She looked that way, and though the sun was shrouded, she could make out a small shape of an animal scurrying across the floor. Likely it was a mouse. Mono shuddered. How she hated them. Ever since she was a child, she hated the small vermin. Knowing that she was living with them was a repulsive thought to her. Another though crept into her mind, one she found even more repulsive. Had she had food in her belly, she would've no doubt vomited at the very idea of eating the creature. Still, she could not deny that she was hungry enough to do it. She saw the small shape pause. Mono could not believe herself as she very slowly rose, wrapped Wander in the cloth, and set him down. Quietly, she crept towards her prey, not even daring to breathe. Closer she came. The mouse did not even move. Ever closer she came until she stood over the tiny creature. Like a hawk about to swoop down upon its unsuspecting prey, Mono prepared to strike. She brought her arm up, her fingers curling like the talons of one of the majestic hunters of the sky. Swallowing, Mono struck, snatching the mouse before it could flee. She was surprised how much she'd learned about hunting, although she would've preferred something bigger. With a squeeze of her hand, weak as it was, she killed the mouse. She returned to her corner and stoked the fire before preparing the piece of meat. Though it still disgusted her, she took this to be a sign that she may live and thus Wander would live also.

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**A/N: **Well, I'm not too happy with this chapter. I tried to do better, but I'm not sure what else I can do. I might revise this later on, but I'm just out of ideas for it. Anyway, hope you enjoy it at least.


	6. Chapter 5: First Steps

**A/N: **Well, I finally got it done. Sorry it took so long. I hope you like this next, I guess you could call it one-shot. Then again maybe you couldn't, but who cares. I hope it turned out OK. Read on and see for yourself.

**P.S.** I did a little more work on this. I hope it turns out a little better as a result.

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**Chapter 5: First Steps**

_5 __Months Later_

Little by little, life returned to the world. The sun's warming rays melted the snow and soon, green blades of grass pushed up through the earth. Each day brought new warmth to the lands of the kingdom. The lives rendered dormant by the chills of winter returned. Farmers sowed their crops, children played with carefree abandon, and livestock grazed idly, content to merely stand in place and live life as slowly as only they knew how. This life came also to the forbidden lands. More and more, wild animals emerged from their dens, some entering the Shrine of Worship. For the sole human living there, the warmth of spring brought new hope as well.

Mono looked over the garden and smiled. She had survived her first winter on her own and, in her care, Wander had also. She looked back at those bleak months, relying on mice for sustenance. The discovery of a bowl-like stone served her for water. She remembered harvesting snow to melt in the stone and drink. Some days, her feet stung so much from the cold that she could barely walk. She was grateful that her feet did not blacken from the cold. She'd heard of people who died from the frost's bite. Going about her day as she had before, Mono picked up Wander and walked the winding path into the shrine. Along the way, Mono looked at Wander. He was at least a year old by now, perhaps even a month older though she could not be certain on that. He squirmed quite frequently and often crawled away when she set him down. A memory of her and Wander from better days bubbled up from the depths of her thoughts. He'd taken her away from his village for a ride on Argo. The conversation eventually turned to her asking about his name.

"_When I was little, I often managed to get away from the house and go into the forest. So my parents named me Wander, because I, well, wandered away a lot when I wasn't supposed to. I don't know; I kind of like it."_

She liked the name too. She kissed the child's cheek as she thought of that time and continued on down into the shrine. Argo met her there. With a cheerful whinny, the stallion limped up to her and nudged her side. His leg had not healed properly, Mono guessed. As such, he could no longer walk the path up into the garden. It saddened the girl to leave him in the shrine proper, but what else could she do? She held out a hand to stroke his flank and nose. She turned to leave when she felt Argo's great nose nudging her backside. Mono leaped slightly and squealed in surprise at the stallion's touch.

"I know what you want," she said turning to face the horse. She wished she would've brought some fruit down with her, but with a child struggling to be free in her arms, she couldn't have possibly carried it.

"I'll bring you some in a little while," Mono promised before walking away towards the altar. "At least Wander was only bold enough to kiss me," she mused to herself. Going passed the altar she stepped out into the sun. She stood there for a time, surveying the vista before her. She'd ventured out here several times, but this was the first time she could take time to take in the land. She stepped onto the grass, warm and soft beneath her feet. The sweet perfumes of the world around her were quite pleasing to her nose. Off in the distance, she thought she could hear the songs of birds.

"What about this land is forbidden?" she asked the wind. "It's such a good land."

She passed a few stone houses near the shrine that bore signs of age and decay. She wondered what life was like in this land all those years ago, perhaps hundreds or even thousands of years prior. A slight twinge of pain in her foot interrupted her thoughts. Mono looked to see she'd stepped on a loose rock. She would have to find something that would serve her for shoes. If she could find enough reeds, she could craft a crude pair of sandals for herself.

Wander began squirming again. With a sigh of concession, Mono set the baby down in the green grass. She lay down on her side, propping her head up with one arm. She watched him closely, ready to snatch him up if he decided to crawl away. After a time, Mono decided to try something. During her last year in her home, before her presentation to the priests of her village, her mother decided to tell her everything she thought Mono should know to prepare her for what she was surely destined to become: a wife. Her mother had gone a little too far during those talks because they always reverted to children and how she should properly care for her own. Mono was not fond of those talks, but she found them useful for raising Wander. Now, it was time to employ another one of those lessons. She picked up Wander and began teaching him to stand. It was not easy for either of them. Wander cried as he stood on his tiny legs wobbling even with her holding him up.

Slowly, she began helping the baby to take a step, then another. She continued to hold on to the small boy until she thought he could walk alone, and she let go of him. Wander wobbled on his legs and fell. Mono's hands flew to her mouth as a loud wail escaped the baby's mouth. She picked Wander up and cradled him for a time, hoping to quiet him.

"I wish I paid better attention to my mother," Mono thought aloud. She still considered herself very much a child. The standards of her homeland indeed considered a woman however. Even so, she never truly learned much of being a woman, let alone a mother. "But I'll do what I can for you," she added, looking at Wander, who had begun to settle down in her arms. Mono decided she would not try to teach him more today, and turned back to return to the temple. Along the way, she passed a pond and decided to stop. She liked fish, a food not often gained in her village. Still, sometimes, people would come from the western towns with fish to sell. And in the pond, she could just make out a few shadows of fish beneath the surface. Mono found the lure irresistible.

"I hope you don't do as your name suggests," she said, as she set Wander down. She found herself looking intently into his eyes as she spoke, hoping there was some part of him that understood, though it was quite a silly notion. She watched him for a time before turning her back, hoping to ease her mind that he would not wander off. The water tingled on her feet and legs and the sand and mud along the bottom squished between her toes, causing Mono to giggle at the feeling. She stood very still so she would not scare away the fish. She soon grew accustomed to the slight chill of the water. She waited until a fish swam near her and struck. During her time in the land, Mono learned much about hunting small game. The fish squirmed and wiggled in her hand which fought to keep a hold of the slippery swimmer. She hurried to shore and struck the fish against a stone. She smiled as she picked up Wander and returned to her home at her accomplishment and the promise of fish.

* * *

After she prepared and consumed the fish and fetched the promised fruit for Argo, Mono returned to her attempts at teaching Wander to walk. Again, she helped him stand and held on to him until he took a few steps. When she released him, he again fell, this time on hard stone instead of the downy turf. He cried even louder. Mono's hands tightened into fists, and she bit her lip until she drew blood. She paced back and forth for a bit, seemingly ignoring the baby on the floor. The girl took a deep breath before picking up the baby and quieting him. Was she frustrated with him? In part, yes. She recalled one night when he cried and cried, even after being nursed and after she walked back and forth trying to calm him. She was more frustrated with herself. What did she truly know about raising a child? The task would surely get harder as he grew. More and more, Mono wished someone, anyone, was there to help her.

"But there is no one," she said to herself. As that knowledge sunk in again, Mono took to caring for Wander as best she could.

Each day, Mono would take Wander outside and encourage him to walk on his own. It was a difficult task to say the least. The baby fell many times. Mono would always hurry in to calm him when he cried. For a count of six days, she did this. Apart from teaching him, she rather liked the excuse to go outside, to feel the warmth of the sun, the softness of the earth underfoot, and the coolness of the ponds when she found time to bathe herself. After a few attempts at teaching Wander to walk, she decided to do just that. She returned to the shrine just long enough to grab the large cloth that often shielded her from the cold last winter. She found a clear pond and disrobed. She rolled up her gown and set it by the bank, hoping some creature wouldn't run by and steal it. With Wander in her arms, she stepped into the water and waded into the middle. She sat down and washed Wander. She tickled the baby and played with him as she rubbed water on his tiny body. She smiled with motherly pride with every laugh he gave as she amused him. After she finished bathing, she stood and dried him with the large cloth before wrapping him in it. She instead lay down in the grass and stretched, opening herself to the warm embrace of the sun, letting it dry her. Perhaps it was some realization that she was finally away from the strict eye of her people that made her do this. After all, what use was modesty when she was alone? Wander dozed as they lay there on her chest. Mono closed her eyes and breathed the scent of the land. She listened to the birds singing as they flew overhead or perched on nearby trees. With a warm sun overhead and soft grass at her back, Mono soon dozed off as well.

Mono woke with a start. She looked down at the squirming bundle lying on her and sat up carefully so she wouldn't throw the baby off her. She looked around and wondered how long she'd been sleeping. The sky looked very much the same, so she guessed an hour had not even passed. With a yawn, she rose and brushed a few blades of grass and clumps of earth that clung to her back. She set Wander down long enough to snatch up her gown and dress.

"You want out of there?" Mono asked lightly, noticing how the infant struggled. She picked him up and unwrapped him. She cuddled him, before setting him back down. "Let's see if we can get you to walk today."

Once again, she helped the baby stand, and this time he took another step after his third. Then he took another. Mono observed with pride as she followed behind the child, only to see him fall yet again. This time, she only shrugged and picked him up.

"Don't worry," she said sounding very comforting. "You'll be on your feet one of these days."

* * *

The next day, Mono awoke in the shrine to find Wander was not beside her as he was when she laid down to sleep the night before. Panic quickly began to set it.

"Wander?" she called as she darted about the room. Her fear grew with every second. "Wander?"

She heard the sound of a baby somewhere behind her. She turned to see Wander coming from behind the altar. To her amazement, he was walking towards her. She ran to the baby.

"I guess you're starting to take after your namesake now," she half-heartily joked. "I'm just glad to see you're all right," she added with relief as she cuddled the child. "And you're walking now." She smiled. Perhaps, she'd done something right in teaching him. A different thought grew in her head, and her smile faded. What if it had nothing to do with her? Was there something in this child that aided him in some unnatural way? "Are you hungry?" she asked the baby, trying to push out that thought. "Let's find something to eat." She picked up and nursed him before going up to the garden to find her own food.

The once-great stallion, Argo watched the girl and the child leave. He knew not where the child came from or whatever became of his old master. He knew not entirely where he was, but he was certain this place was not home. He knew the girl and something did seem familiar about the child. He also knew the pain in his hind-leg. For a year, he hobbled along, now unable to leave this place. He could not even make the walk up the path to the garden, where the grass he wished to eat was. Argo's ears twitched. He thought he heard something, some voice speaking to him. He turned his head about looking for anyone there. Something entered the stallion's mind. Why not try to walk up that path again? Sorely, the horse rose. Shaking his head, he took a step and did not notice any pain. Each step he took next was without pain of any kind, except the groaning of his bones which likewise faded away. With a whinny, he started up the path.

Mono sat beneath a tree enjoying a piece of fruit. She found she was getting better at climbing the trees with sustaining too many injuries, though her knees still took a few bruises. She was in the middle of another bite when she saw Argo walking into the garden. In her surprise, she let the fruit drop to the ground. He was walking without the limp. She knew little of horses, but she did not think it possible for his leg to heal. She watched him walk perfectly until he stopped to graze. Mono could only sit there wide-eyed and uncertain of the sight before her eyes. With a few strides, she reached the horse, which looked up at her. She knelt before his head and stroked him.

"It looks as though Wander's the only one to take his first steps today," she said, still in awe, but with a hint of gratitude in her voice. She knew not what power still dwelt in this land, but surely it was a power for good. She knew of no demon that healed a lame horse or helped a baby walk. But if that was the case, then why did the feeling of imminent danger still linger in her heart?

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**A/N: **There that wasn't so bad was it? haha. I figured when you're all alone, you might be a little more...uninhibited. Hope it didn't seem too OOC for Mono, not that there's much to go on with her. I still think of her as somewhat meek, but you gotta wonder how meek you would be when you're away from every eye.

And once again a big thank you to S. A. Thorup for letting me use her story, Cursed Fate, as my foundation. That's where I got that quote about Wander's name. Seriously, I'd recommend reading her story. It's a great one.

Anyway, enough "advertising." Hope you liked this one, and hopefully, I can come up with something sooner.


	7. Chapter 6: The Life We Live

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. It's been hard to write lately. Ok, this story gives us a little look in the day and the life of our two favorite hermits. lol. I'll try to move things a little further on. Since I know the game starts with a voice-over, I thought I'd include one of my own if you're wondering about the opening.

You also might notice the genre change. I did some thinking about it, and I think this fits the overall scheme.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this. Once again sorry for the delay.

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**Chapter 6: The Life We Live**

_The world is very much an ongoing cycle. The day begins with the rising of the sun and ends with the setting of the same sun. Never does this end. In the same way, life is made up of light and shadows, rising and falling in their own cycle. The hours of the sun are numbered. One can count them to know the time, but for life, the length of light and shadow cannot be counted; each one comes and goes in their own time. For some, light shines brightly upon them for most of their life. For others, the shadows grow long. But know this; whatever lot fate gives us, whether we live our lives in light or shade, it does not last forever. As the sun sets and rises, so then will light fall and shadow rise as well as shadows fall and light will rise._

Wander sat down in the empty basin at the base of the winding path that led up into the garden. He was now six years old at least that's what his mother said. She was probably still asleep up in the garden. They both often slept up there during these warm months. Wander crossed his arms and scowled. It was surely mid-morning, and his mother still slept. The boy sat up and toyed with his bare feet. On an impulse, he'd hurried down here when his saw his mother still slept, and hid himself in the empty basin at the bottom of the winding path. He smiled impishly to himself as he sat there waiting for her telltale cry, for he'd done this before.

Wander did not hate his mother, whose name he somehow knew was Mono. How he knew that, he did not know, but it made little difference to the child. He did not hate her when he snuck away. He loved her dearly. He always had, yet he found it so easy to act on these strange impulses. On the other hand, he also sometimes had urges to help her, which he would similarly act on.

Wander quickly grew board of sitting there. He squirmed and fidgeted restlessly as most children do, though there were no other children for Wander to learn this from. He paced around the small basin. He walked a short distance away. He once considered returning to his mother's side. He knew she would be very displeased by his actions. If he simply went back, he would avoid her displeasure and the resulting reprimand. Yes, perhaps, he should quickly go back, for his mother's sake and his own. On the other hand, he did have such fun doing this. Wander slumped down against the wall of the basin. He reclined there, eager with naughty anticipation which only added to his boredom. Where was his mother? Why had he not heard her cry out? Surely she would have woken by now.

"Having fun, Wander?" the voice of his mother sounded in his ears behind him.

The boy's back arched, and he felt himself stiffen at the sound, which sounded quite irritated. Wander rolled himself over on his belly and looked up. There stood his mother. Her arms were crossed, and she looked down at him. Her dark eyes stared down harshly, like searing embers into his small face. One bare foot tapped against the stone, each rise and fall an indication of her anger. "H-hello, Mama," the boy stammered anxiously. He'd been caught in his own plan.

"Don't 'hello' me!" Mono said angrily. Wander said nothing in reply, and neither did she for a time. Uncomfortable with the unending silence, Wander put on the most sympathetic face he could manage and looked up into his mother's eyes. His face resembled something of a small pup that was caught in the act of misbehaving.

"How did…" the boy began. Mono quickly cut him off.

"Don't think I don't learn too," she snapped. Wander again fell silent. Mono continued. "This makes the fourth time you've run off. If it's not in one of the trees, it's down here. I'm not stupid, Wander." The boy looked down shamefaced. His attempt at garnering sympathy from his mother had clearly failed. "Why do you this, Wander?" Mono asked. "Why do you act so well sometimes, but other times you act worse than any child I ever knew?" Wander did not look up. He deserved every stern word she gave and he knew it as well. "Honestly, Wander, if your father were…" Mono stopped short there. Rarely did his mother ever mention his father. The few times she did, Wander could see the sadness in her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mama," Wander said in a most pitiful tone. "Please, don't be sad."

Mono closed her eyes, and her right hand tightened into a fist. Wander knew the meaning of this. When she did this, she would often calm down afterwards. Her fist relaxed and she looked down at her son. Her eyes did not appear so harsh now. "It's all right, Wander," she said calmly. "Come out of there." Wander got to his feet and walked to her. "Now, let's find something to eat. We have much to do today." The woman pointed off to a small corner of the shrine. "Be a good boy and get Mama her spear." Wander quickly scampered off to fetch her tool. The spear was merely a piece of wood, as straight as could be found, with a sharpened tip. The boy recalled watching his mother craft it, constantly rubbing the end with a stone and slowing wearing away the wood until it was sharp. Wander shuddered as he picked it up. Mono had often warned him to be careful with it for fear that he might lose an eye if he handled it poorly. He carried it to her, tip pointing away from him, and Mono took it. With the spear in her right hand and the boy's hand in her left, Mono set out into the land.

The two stopped at a pond, where fish could be seen in the clear water. Wander waited at the water's edge, while Mono waded further in. He watched her as she stood as still as a stone lying in the path. He watched her as she waited, waited for her prey. He let out a slight squeal as she thrust her weapon down, knowing that she had caught a fish. And when Mono pulled her spear from the water, Wander saw she'd speared two fish instead of one. He was certain his mother could catch fish with her eyes closed. Taking her son by the hand again, they returned to their home.

Wander sat on the stone floor as his mother prepared the fish. She'd sent him to fetch some fruit for their meal and for Argo as well. Wander gladly fed the great stallion. It puzzled the boy that the horse seemed very friendly around him, almost as though he knew him. Wander set his fruit down and stroked the horse's nose before realizing his mother was expecting him, and so he quickly gathered up the fruit and hurried down into the shrine, where he could smell the odor of smoke mingled with the scent of cooked fish. Joining his mother, he was given a small stick on which was stuck a slightly charred fish. The two sat down and Mono uttered a quick prayer of blessing before the two ate.

After the meal, Mono went about her work gathering firewood for the upcoming winter. It was in the midst of the summer months, but the woman would not leave the task to the end. She and Wander spent much of the day searching for loose sticks and twigs to carry back to the shrine. Indeed, they had piled wood as high as Wander's chest, but even this Mono said was not enough. It was a long and often fruitless task, but one that needed to be done. This was the third return to the shrine, and each of them carried a small load of sticks in their arms. Wander trailed along behind Mono.

"Can we rest a bit, Mama?" the boy asked.

Mono let out a breath through her nose. She did not feel very tired. For six years, she had done this alone, and her back had grown strong and her feet travel-hardened. But for Wander's sake, she set down her load and sat on the ground. "Only for a bit," she replied, as Wander sat beside her. It was at this point that Wander began his favored pastime, asking questions.

"Why do we have to do this?" began the lad.

"We might freeze this winter. Remember what I told you."

"Why can't we wear shoes?" Mono had once taken the time to fashion a crude pair of shoes for the two of them, but she had put them away for the warm months.

"They have to last," she answered. "You should know this by now, Wander."

Wander crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Why don't I have clothes like yours?"

Mono stifled a laugh at the idea of her son wanting a gown like the one she wore. Of course she realized he meant why he had only that long, gray cloth wrapped around his waist. "Well, if you want one like mine, I'll see what I can do with that. I'm sure I could make it into a small dress," she teased.

"Why aren't there people here?" the boy asked, ignoring his mother's teasing. "Why do we live where there's no one?" Mono had told Wander about the world outside their land.

"It's just the life we have to live, son," she answered, this time with little emotion.

"Well, I don't like it," Wander said, scowling.

Mono sighed. He was acting different once more. She often wondered why. Her eyes fell upon the two small horns on top of his head. She silently pondered if they had something to do with it. As she considered this in her heart, Wander asked another question, one that was not part of his usual list.

"Where's my Papa?"

The question caught Mono entirely by surprise. She told Wander some of her life, omitting many details about the meeting with the man she had loved and saying nothing of her death. She supposed she had learned to forget such things and did not wish to recall them. She turned to the child with clenched teeth and heartbroken eyes.

"What's wrong, Mama?" the child asked, unaware of the hurt she felt at an innocent question.

Mono rose sharply and snatched up her bundle of sticks. "We have to go," she said slowly.

"But Mama…"

"Come along, Wander," Mono said, half sadly, half angrily.

"But…"

"Come along," she repeated. She turned to leave. "Come now, Wander."

Wander picked up his small load and hurried along after his mother. He wished he knew what it was that upset her so. He said nothing as they continued back to their home. He remained silent as they piled the wood, as did she. Afterwards, Wander went to sit alone in the basin as he'd done that morning. He sat there wondering what he had done. As he did, his shoulders shook with a few sobs and a small tear ran down his cheek. At once he felt a light touch on his bare shoulder. He leaned his head back to see his mother looking down on him.

With a smile, Mono stepped into the shallow pit and knelt by her son. She dried his face with her sleeve and held him close as he continued to sob. "I'm sorry I got angry with you, Wander," she whispered.

"Why did you?" the boy asked, his body still quivering.

"It's not easy for me to think about your father," she answered, pulling her son closer to her. He buried his face in her chest.

"Did he leave because I have horns?" he asked. He'd once asked about the two small growths on top of his head, much to the surprise of his mother, prompting the question of how he knew he had them. She learned he'd seen his reflection in the water once.

Mono's face took on a look of surprise, much like the look she wore earlier when he asked about his father. She knew not what to say. What could she say? She stroked the back of the boy's head, and the only sound to hear was the remaining sobs of the lad. Argo had gone to graze, so his usual whinnies and neighs were absent. At length, Mono gave the only answer she could. "No. Your father was a good man."

"Then why did he leave?"

"Who can say?" she answered, a small tear forming in her own eye. "Just know that he would have loved you." After Wander had finished crying, the two stood and walked up to the garden. While Mono would usually climb the trees for fruit herself, this time, she decided to give the task to Wander instead. The boy's eyes gleamed as she asked him to do it, for it was the first time. It seemed that he'd quickly forgotten about earlier.

As he climbed one of the trees that had fruit, Mono watched, hoping and praying that he didn't fall. She was hardly unfamiliar with bruises and cuts and hoped she would not have to tend to a wounded boy. But her fears subsided as he climbed with little effort. It seemed as though he was born for this life of foraging. Wander picked as many fruits as he could and let himself hang down from a branch, looking very much like a fruit himself. Much to Mono's horror, he let go of the limb and landed neatly on his feet.

Mono shook her head as she gathered the fallen fruit. "Next time, climb down, please," she gently chided the boy.

After eating their fill, the two passed whatever time there was left in the day, until the sun turned the soft gold and the sky the gentle purple shades of evening. That night, the mother and child lay down in the garden watching the stars until sleep overtook both of them.

For Wander, however, sleep was not easy. In wild dreams, a voice flooded his head, a voice he did not know. "Soon, our disciple," it said, sounding both as man and woman. "Soon," it said again.

* * *

**A/N: **So, what do you think? I promise things will start moving. There's only one more chapter or maybe two before we make a jump forward in time.


	8. Chapter 7: Voices in the Night

**A/N:** Been a long time hasn't it, but don't worry I didn't forget this story. Life just decided it was going to jump out in front of me and keep me from writing. But I showed it who's boss. Anyway, this chapter had a long space of time between when I started it and when I finished it, so I'm sure it may read differently towards the end. I'm hoping the wheels in my head aren't too rusty, but what can I say: I've been out of it for a really long time.

One other change you'll notice is the summary of the story. I decided these couldn't really qualify as one-shots anymore.

Anyway, enjoy.

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Chapter 7: Voices in the Night

Wander was not himself that morning. The boy had hardly spoken much since he'd awakened, and he only nibbled at his food. His mother looked on him with all the concern a parent could have for their child. Often, Wander let out a heavy sigh as the strange voice he'd heard sounded again and again in his mind. The voice frightened the boy, yet something about sounded strangely familiar to him. The horned child was far more worried at what it had meant when it referred to him as a disciple. Taking another small bite of the apple his mother had gotten for him earlier, he chewed it slowly while he turned the word over and over in his head, just as his tongue turned the piece of fruit over and over in his mouth.

"What's bothering you, son?" his mother asked just then. Wander looked up into the woman's dark eyes which were warm with love and worry for him. Those eyes for some reason made him want to weep, yet he did not know why. Wander could only make himself turn away from her.

"Nothing, Mama," the boy answered quietly. Mono walked silently over to him and knelt by Wander's side. The woman wrapped one arm around her son and pulled his head close to her.

"Are you sure?" she asked. At first, Wander did not answer. He pondered what he should say or if he should say nothing at all. The boy tried to imagine what his mother would say if he mentioned that voice, that unworldly voice. He knew not what she would say, and so he said nothing. Finally, Mono brought her arm back around him and rose. "If you change your mind, I'll be up in the garden," she said reassuringly.

Wander felt a little chill at the absence of his mother's touch. With a despondent look, he brought his knees up to his chin and dug at the floor with his toes, not really knowing why. He turned his head to see Mono climbing the winding path up to their small garden.

"Mama," he called out after watching her scaling the path for a time. Mono turned quickly around and hurried down the path. Wander listened to her feet slapping against the stone floor and with each step he heard, he felt a small twinge of doubt about mentioning his dream. He'd spoken of the dreams he'd had before, but this one was certainly unlike any of the others. Mono knelt by him again, taking the place and position she had previously occupied. "Mama," the boy repeated.

"Yes, Wander," Mono replied sweetly.

"What does 'disciple' mean?" Mono's head jerked back and her face took on an expression of pure astonishment.

"Where did you hear that word?" she asked.

"What does it mean?" Wander asked again. Mono scratched the back of her head. She let out a breath through her nose as though she herself did not know.

"It means 'follower,'" Mono answered at length. "A disciple is a person who follows another." Wander tilted his head slightly he took her words in.

"You mean like how I follow you?" he asked, referring to the many times he trailed behind her with his hand nestled safely in hers. At this, Mono gave a slight laugh.

"It's more than that, Wander, but I suppose you could say that. A disciple is more like a student following a teacher everywhere the teacher goes. But where did you hear that word?"

"In a dream," the lad answered with a slight sigh.

Mono wrapped one arm around the boy and brought her other hand to her son's chest. "Tell me," she instructed gently." Wander loosened himself from her and turned to face Mono.

"I heard a voice calling for me," the child began. "It didn't say my name, but I knew it was calling me. It said I was its disciple."

"What did the voice sound like?" Mono asked. Though she did her best not to show it, Wander knew she was beginning to worry for him.

"Like two people speaking at the same time." Wander looked up to see his mother's face grow pale. He quickly scooted away from her, sad at having upset her. Wander rose and began to walk away. He'd not gotten far when he heard Mono calling for him.

"Wander, come back," she instructed firmly. Wander did not turn towards her voice. He instead kept walking up the path and out into the garden. All the while, his mother continued to call out to him. But the boy did not listen. Though he followed her wherever she went and helped her if she asked, Wander spent the rest of the day a stone's throw away from his mother, sitting deep in though. Not even the playful nudging of Argo could budge the lad. For hours, he considered his dream and his mother's fearful face and wondering what all of it could mean.

* * *

Wander continued to sit in sad meditation in the same spot he'd taken away from his mother. He could still see her out of the corner of his eye, but he'd not spoken to her, and she had not to him. Once or twice, he saw Mono leave and return, though the second time, she did not go where his eyes could see her. Shortly after, the scent of burning wood and meat reached out and eased into his nose. Shaking off his pondering as he shook the dew that sometimes clung to him, Wander looked out past the altar and saw the gentle shades of gold and purple stretching across the land. It was just evening. At once, Wander noticed the empty feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach. He recalled not when he'd last eaten or even how long he'd sat in that spot, but it felt long enough to the boy. At length, he heard his mother call.

"Wander, come here and eat," she said. Her voice still carried its sweet sound, and it seemed enough to make the horned child forget his dream, even for the slightest moment. The child rose and sorely stretched, letting his body grow accustomed to movement. His knees let out a slight protest as he got up. Wander walked to where Mono sat by the winding path up to their garden. Before her was a small portion of cooked fish and some fruit. As she always did, Mono led them in a quick blessing before they ate. Though Wander did eat, he felt a sense of dissatisfaction with the fish. Yet, he was quite content to forget about his dream, which he did in the company of his mother and their mealtime. He was far too hungry to let a mere dream worry him now. After they had eaten, mother and child spent the last few waning hours of evening playing with the abandon of two children. Wander chased Mono about the shrine, and she chased him, and their game went on until Wander could only complain about his tired feet. Both of their faces were red, and the two could only huff and puff as they tried to catch their breath. Finding it too dark to walk up to the garden, Mono bade Wander to come to her, and they curled up on the stone floor. Wander took comfort in his mother's arm which wrapped around his small body as she slept behind him. It was not long before he too was asleep, but it was hardly a peaceful sleep. It was not long before the voice returned.

"Fool that thou hast already forgotten," it said harshly. In his dream, Wander found himself answering back.

"Forgotten what?" he replied.

"Doest thou truly not know? Doest thou not remember that which we have done for thee? Doest thou not remember us? Thou art our vessel for the time, and thou doest not even know us. Doest thou not even know the meaning of thy name or from whence thou art from?"

"What are you talking about?" Wander asked his voice a mix of confusion and most of all fear. The words this nightly ghost used astounded the child, "My name?" Wander asked, mostly to himself. What could this voice mean by that and 'whence thee is from?' Wander doubted he even understood what those words meant much less the meaning of the question.

"Thou truly art a fool, yet it is likely thy foolishness was unavoidable. Hast thou not ever pondered thy mark; the horns atop thy head? Or hast thou never considered that thou hast no father?"

"I had a father once," Wander snapped back. "Mama told me so."

"Then she is but a liar," the voice whispered. "We shall show thee. Look now on part of the life thou hast forgotten."

Before his eyes, Wander beheld a scene he could not remember, yet one that seemed so familiar to him.

_She was standing by an abandoned hut that was being used for food storage with a confused air about her. Her hair was thin and black, reaching her upper back. She wore a regular brown skirt and a tucked in blue shirt with short sleeves, which draped over her slim frame. But what really caught his attention was her face. It was round, but not fat, lips shaped to perfection. Her eyes were none that he had ever seen in these parts of the land. They were narrow, the corners drawn back slightly, lined by long black lashes. Her skin was fair, only a bit tanned. All in all, she was just beautiful._

Wander recognized the woman in an instant. It was indeed his mother, but he knew not the place she was, nor did he recognize the man staring at her. Yet, as he stared at the tall figure, the boy thought the face looked very much like his own. Indeed, the man looked very much like him. As Wander stared at the two, he came to the only conclusion he could.

"Is that…" the boy began unable to keep silent, "is that my papa?" Wander trembled with excitement at the sight of the man, for he was certain that this was indeed his father. He hardly cared for the fact that the man had no horns; all he knew was that he'd at last seen the man he'd always wished for. The thrill of the moment was more than Wander could bear, and he cried out and hurried towards his parents. "Mama, Papa!" he called out. As he ran towards them however, the pair slowly faded away leaving only an empty blackness with Wander stuck in the midst of it. It was then that Wander felt himself shake or rather being shaken. He looked up to find Mono staring down at him in the dark. Her hands rested on his side, and when their eyes met, she let a contented sigh leave her nose.

"Mama?" Wander asked with some uncertainty. He knew not what look she wore on her face, but he sensed both worry and relief; he knew her well despite his age.

"Are you all right?" Mono asked. Wander could all but feel the alarm in his mother's voice. The boy sat up and turned to his mother. Despite even the lack of moonlight, Wander could at least see Mono enough to know he was looking at her. His mother placed her hands on his shoulders as if she was about to scold him. She'd done this when she wanted him to look straight at her, and this act now made Wander all the more uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," Wander answered flatly. He found himself wishing it was already morning so he could see her better, although he was certain that he would not care for the look on her face. At least he would not feel the sharp sting of her unease.

"Are you sure?" Wander could tell simply by her tone that she didn't believe him. He remained silent for a moment, and Mono repeated her question.

"It was only a dream, Mama," Wander said at length.

* * *

The next day, Wander and Mono sat outside the shrine. She had decided it was time for him to learn more than just how to survive in this land. Mono had told him she wished him to learn more than she did growing up, and so she resolved to teach the boy how to read. With a sharp stick, she dug at the ground, carving letters and words into the soil, and told him what each one meant. Wander, for the slightest of moments, giggled quietly as he watched. Her letters were quite poor, and he found the look of them humorous. Seeing her son's laughter, Mono gave him a look of mock insult.

"Why don't you come up here and try then?" she teased in good humor. Wander looked about and playfully pointed to himself. "Come on," Mono said with a chuckle in her throat. Wander took the stick from her and proceeded to mimic the marks his mother had made, and they were just as poor. At the end of the lesson, the two stood side by side looking down at their work.

"They look the same," Wander stated.

"I don't think so," answered Mono. "I think yours look better."

"Is that the way they look out there?" the child asked, referring to the world beyond their land. Mono did not speak for a moment. Wander looked over at her, and saw a look of deep contemplation on her face. At last, she spoke.

"I don't remember," said she. She took the child by the hand. "Come, Wander. We should eat and then continue gathering wood. We'll have to make up for yesterday." Wander let out a groan at the thought of carrying more wood that day. Still, he followed his mother and worked alongside her. They continued to gather until the evening meal, and by then Wander found it hard to even keep his eyes open. One thing pleased the boy however. He had by now forgotten all about the unearthly voice of last night. Wander cuddled up next to his mother, grateful for her comforting warmth. It was not long before he was asleep, and it was not long before the same looming voice spoke once more.

"Thou art still a fool, boy, yet for thy sake, we shall spare thee the worst this night. Three nights from hence, we shall speak to thee again."

Wander's eyes flew open and he took in a large gasp of air. He looked behind him to make sure he did not stir his mother. Snuggling in deeper to her, he silently prayed to whatever god this shrine was built to that he would find some peace tonight.

* * *

All that next day, Wander had barely an interest in his lessons. Mono went from teaching him letters to how to use the land and its resources. She even tried to teach him how to grow fruit from the seeds he was used to discarding. Still, the boy could not tear his mind away from the ominous warning. He wondered and dreaded what that strange voice would speak of. He also considered the dream he'd had of his mother and father. During another writing lesson, Wander only stared at the ground before him. He could recall each of them, but it only served to stoke his curiosity. Was the man really his father? Where was this place he'd seen? Why did his mother look so frightened? Finally, Mono threw her arms in the air in frustration.

"What are you thinking of, son?" she asked. Wander's head snapped up as though he'd woken suddenly. "I don't understand. You act like yourself one day, and the next you act as if you have the weight of the world on your shoulders." Mono came and knelt by the boy. Wander resisted the sudden urge to push her away as she ran her fingers over his head. "Was it another dream?"

"Yes, Mama," Wander answered dismally. At his words, Mono left him realizing he did not wish to speak of it.

"Why don't we forget the rest of the lessons for today?" Mono suggested. Wander was all too happy to agree.

They spent the rest of the day in relative ease, although towards the end of the day, Mono brought Wander to a nearby pond, insisting it was time he had a bath despite the boy's insistence that he was only going to get dirty again and likely not long afterwards. Mono left him alone to bathe, and Wander considered only splashing some water on his chest, but he was certain his mother would realize he'd not obeyed her. After he'd finished, he returned to Mono, and the pair walked back to the shrine to sleep.

The day came and went in very much the same way. Wander tried his best to focus on his mother's teachings, but still he could not put the worrisome thoughts out of his mind. Still, he hoped he could keep up an unsuspicious appearance for his mother's sake. As he slept that night, Wander tossed and turned and kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Tomorrow night," he uttered softly.

* * *

The following day, Wander made every attempt to avoid his mother, at least every attempt a child could think of. He highly doubted he could keep his apprehension towards the nearing dusk from her much longer, so he saw fit to stay out of her sight as they gathered firewood, although it angered Mono when he did so.

"If you keep this up, I'll have to give you a good spanking," his mother said once that afternoon. Wander knew not what she meant by a 'spanking' but he was sure whatever it was, it was better than the threat of hearing that voice again. Still, he was also certain that he would not like it either, and so he stayed close to Mono despite his discomfort. He barely understood why he worried so as he walked side-by-side with her. Was it because he'd seen her in his dream? Was it because she'd never spoken of his father to him afterwards? Oh, how Wander wished to know of his father. Perhaps it was that his dream and the voice seemed so familiar, yet he could not understand why.

As the evening shadows came and night covered all under its veil, Wander hoped to stay awake. Mono lay behind him and him beside her. The boy kept his eyes open, starring out in front of him at the shapeless form of the dark. If he didn't sleep, he wouldn't dream; that was his reasoning. Still, his eyes grew heavier by the moment as he continued to gaze. A yawn worked its way up through Wander's throat. He continued to fight off the weariness. His eyes closed for a moment, but the boy willed them to open, while he choked back another yawn.

"Don't sleep," he whispered to himself. Wander blinked, and each time it grew harder to keep his eyes open. It was a battle the boy was losing at. Still, he hoped to repel the desire to sleep. He yawned again. Maybe there was no harm in closing his eyes for a short while. He could still keep himself awake. Yes, he could rest his eyes and not sleep. While a clever smile, Wander closed his eyes. And then he was asleep. It was not long afterwards that the voice returned.

"As we have promised, look now before thy eyes, disciple," it boomed in Wander's head. "Behold what thou hast forgotten." Wander looked at the scene in front of him, but wished he could hide himself at the sight.

_Miles away he saw the cloaked men galloping off towards the east. He gazed over the land, and saw a figure laying in the grass. They were easy to see because they were wearing something brilliantly white that reflected the moon's rays easily. He turned the horse to the side and found a steep trail down to the plain, galloping at full speed towards the person._

_He jumped off of Agro, not bothering to stop him, and tripped as he stumbled through the thick spring grass. It was Mono, laying on her back with her eyes half open._

_"Mono!" he cried, kneeling at her side and cradling her in his arms. A very small cut bled on her collarbone, and she looked at him._

_"Wander," she whispered. "I've been...been..."_

_Tears welled up. She had been poisoned. He wiped the blood away with his hand before it could stain her dress._

_"We...we must get you back," he said, voice trembling. "Lord Emon will be able to heal you. He—"_

_"By the time you brought me back to the village," she gasped. "It...it would be too late."_

_"Mono, I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "My promise..."_

_"Wander..." she pleaded, trying to hug him."Please, stay with me..."_

_The warrior brought her closer, pressing his forehead against hers. Her tense body trembled in the attempt to stay alive, her hands grasping at his clothing as the pain sapped her life away. Mono took his face with a trembling hand, touching it, and she kissed him. When the girl pulled away, her eyes were closed, and her body slowly went limp. Wander stared in disbelief as her hand fell away from his cheek. Agro had come back, and he lowered his head._

_"Mono?" the man whispered. "Mono?"_

_She was gone. Wander cried even harder, body racked with sobs. How could they? She wasn't cursed! She was innocent, beautiful, pure... He looked up, seeing the mountains__._

Wander looked in disbelief at the image before him. He let his eyes fall upon his dead mother and felt hot tears stream down his young cheeks. He saw the man cradling her body, weeping along with him. He'd heard his mother call the man by name, but it mattered little to the boy, seeing the lifeless form of the woman who'd raised him. Wander fell on his knees, and his small body shook with each sob. It was more than the boy could bear, and he let out a long, grief-filled scream before he covered his face with his hands and wept into them. The image began to fade into blankness. Wander bitterly cried for his mother as the darkness overtook him.

He awoke sobbing and shaking violently. Wander felt more alone than he'd ever felt before. He sat straight up, tears still coursing down his face.

"Mama!" he cried out into the night. At once, a pair of loving arms encircled him.

"What it is son?" Mono fearfully asked. Wander turned around and laid one hand on her face. The woman placed her own hand upon his. "I'm here," she said sweetly. Wander let another sob leave his throat before he buried his face in her chest, weeping into the fabric of her gown. Mono rested her head on his as her arms reached around the child in a warm embrace, "What's wrong? Was it another dream?"

"Yes," Wander replied, his voices muffled by her gown and choked by tears.

"Tell me," Mono said, pulling herself away long enough to run her thumb in a loving caress across his cheek. "Please, tell me." At first, Wander did not answer.

"You were dead," the boy said at length with a sniff. "I saw it. A man was holding you, but you were dead." Wander could not see her through the darkness and the tears, but if he had, he would have seen an unreadable expression work its way over his mother's face. Mono sighed heavily, and Wander returned his face to her gown.

"It was only a dream, son," Mono whispered gently. "Only a dream," she repeated, this time her voice carried with it a noticeable trace of doubt.

* * *

**A/N: **I never really noticed it, but I ended up bringing the chapter full circle in a way, what with Wander telling Mono it was just a dream and then her saying the same thing at the end. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I bet you would've enjoyed it more if I'd posted it sooner, but hopefully it won't take as long. Next time, we'll be doing another jump forward in time, so prepare for that.

I like to give credit where credit is due, so here's a big shout-out to S. A. Thorup and her own Shadow story, _Cursed Fate_. The portions in italics are excerpts from her story (hope you don't mind). Without it, I doubt I could've written this the way I have. Thanks for letting me use it.

Another big shout out to everyone who reads this: S. A. Thorup, Dreamer of a Thousand Memories, Mattie Scary, toushiro1310, and Rein Sky. It's all of you that make the writing worth the time and effort, so thank you all for reading and reviewing.


	9. Chapter 8: Childhood Lost

**A/N: **Greetings, programs. Ok, I couldn't help that one. Well, maybe I could have. I hope all of you haven't given up on seeing this updated. I really was working on it, but trying to juggle life and also another giant chapter'ed fic isn't easy. After a while, I just needed to take a break from thinking. Seriously, if you saw the word counts I was putting in for my other story, you'd probably need a break too. Plus, this was a hard chapter to write, as you will probably see.

Anyway, I hope you like it, and I hope this doesn't cause the rating to increase. Bear with me on this.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Childhood Lost**

One cool autumn day, Wander sat alone in the shrine that had housed him and his mother for as far back as he, and he suspected his mother, could recall. He was no longer the youth he once was, yet he felt no older than a child. He looked down at himself and gazed at his bare chest, arms and legs. His limbs were strong from all the long years of carrying loads of wood, and also from rather bold misadventures. He laughed to himself as he thought of the day when the two of them had gone to explore more of the land, and he had dared to climb up the face of a cliff, much to the fright of his mother. His legs had lengthened as well; if he were to stand by his mother, he had seen that his head slightly rose above hers. His chest was firmed and toned from his labors, though he understood little of such things. He knew not his proper age, but he reasoned that he was nearing the age of a man, and he knew naught of what that meant. He supposed that, like the land, he was changing as well, just as the seasons did.

The thought came to him that perhaps he would grow younger again just as the decay and age of winter returned to the youth of springtime. But he felt other changes as well; matters he understood little of. He soberly pondered these strange things as he looked upon the cloth that had girded his waist for the many years of his youth.

The soft sound of Mono's approaching footsteps prompted Wander to turn towards the entrance into the land. His mother looked as she always had, though her skin had tanned from her many days in the sun. Still, while he had grown, she had remained as constant as the stones of their home. Her face showed no sign of age, though Wander knew not what age she should be. The only traces of time upon her were the length of her hair and the gown she wore. Her tresses fell in an ebon waterfall to the floor, and the seamless garment showed signs of age and wear with worn edges and a sleeve that looked as though a breeze could claim it. Though in her eyes, Wander could see the youthful gleam waning, as though she knew herself to be an aged woman.

As she neared, Wander felt his eyes fix themselves on her legs, brown and bare as they were. His eyes trailed the length of her limbs until the hem of her gown hid them from his sight. He knew not why he stared at her so, yet continued to gaze at her. At length, he brought his gaze towards her face as she neared.

"Hello, Mama," Wander said, referring to her still by that same title. Mono let out a slight groan at his words.

"You will be sixteen come spring. You are no longer a child, Wander, and you don't need to call me 'mama.'"

"What should I call you then?"

"When I was your age, I began to call my parents 'mother' and 'father.'" Wander bowed his head at the sharp stone in her words. He knew not what had caused her to speak so harshly, yet he felt as though he had caused it.

"Why can't I just keep calling you what I've always called you?" he rejoined with a heavy cloud in his voice.

"Don't pout, son," Mono admonished. "You're far too old for that. And if we were anywhere else, you would be expected to act like a man."

"We're not anywhere else. And how does a man act?" Mono said nothing. Wander watched as her foot silently tapped against the floor; a sign that she had no answer for him, though her gesture often meant many things. Such exchanges were quite commonplace, and Wander understood not why he felt the need to speak to her so or even what she had done to merit it. After a time, she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Wander. But you are a man, even if your attitude doesn't show it. I don't know why you have to act this way sometimes; anyway, I was coming to fetch you. I need your help to fill the cracks in the shrine. Winter will be here before we know it, and besides wood, we need to keep the chill out of here. Now, get up and help me."

Wander rose from where he sat and followed his mother as she turned and headed back out into the land. The air, while still retaining its sharp, crisp touch, seemed better to the youth in the open spaces. He smiled as he stepped onto the browned grass, caring nothing for the stiffened blades on his hardened feet. As he looked about, he often marveled at the thought of one day exploring this land. He knew little of the land; save for about the shrine, and the child-like curiosity never seemed to leave, even after hearing that he was now a man. The rest of the afternoon was spent gathering up dry brush and stuffing it into the many crevasses inside and outside the shrine.

It was simple work, yet Wander often fell into cross moods as he worked alongside Mono. Sometimes, the cloud hung about him for days on end, and often soured the both of them for such long times that Wander thought they might never speak a friendly word again. After the bitter exchange earlier, Wander kept his face as best he could so that she would not chide him as she had then. The youth looked about the land as the combed the copper fields. He looked upon the trees clad beautifully in garments woven in red and gold and also some with naked limbs. At the sight of those trees, devoid of any color save the brown of their trunks, Wander could not help but feel sad.

While he enjoyed the waning year, Wander did also long for the warmth and vivid colors of spring. This year, however, he supposed perhaps he could leave this place to see what other sights this land held within. His eyes then fell upon Mono who stood silently nearby. Once again, his eyes drew themselves to the flesh of her legs, shaped and firmed from the many years of use. He followed the course of her limbs until they were again hidden from sight, but Wander cared not.

A chill wind blew, and he hugged his arms and chest in vain protest against it. However, even the wind could not cool the heat he felt in his cheeks as he continued to stare without knowing why he did so.

The young man turned his eyes back to the task at hand. The mother and son continued their work diligently until about just past midday when they stopped for the afternoon meal.

* * *

The two of them walked up into the garden above the shrine, where Mono had laid simple traps of wood and ivy made into baskets. Wander followed as the woman turned sadly away from snare after empty snare until at last they found a squirrel caught in the small cage. Mono called for a stone, and the youth hurried to fetch one. He watched as she struck the creature, but again, he could not keep his eyes from the veil of black hair or the tanned skin behind it. Wander felt ill as they combed the rest of the traps, finding only a few more tiny creatures and one small fowl. He thought his belly might fly from him and that his heart would burst from his chest with how it beat so fiercely. He knew not why he ailed so, yet as he gazed upon she who had raised him, the strange sickness within him seemed to worsen.

With their meal gathered, the two began preparing the small portions of meat. Wander dug a small pit with his hands before placing dry twigs into it and starting the fire, while Mono took to cooking as she always had.

"Why can't we eat the larger animals?" Wander asked, hoping to stir his mind away from the thoughts plaguing it. "I've seen such big things with horns and other animals too. Why must we always catch squirrels, mice, and birds?"

"They are called deer, my son. It seems you didn't pay much attention to my lessons when you were small. We cannot hunt them, at least not yet. We have no traps large enough to catch them, and my spear is hardly made for large prey. Out there, men would go out with bows and arrows to hunt."

"What's a bow and arrow, Mama?" Mono only sighed in reply.

"Oh, if only I could have raised you out there."

"What's wrong, Mama?" Wander asked with a curious cock of his head. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's not that, son. It's just that out there, you may have learned more about manhood than you could with me. But let's eat. We need to finish our work." Mono held out a piece of hot meat, and Wander slowly accepting it. As their hands brushed against each other, Wander felt the same strange sensation in the pit of his belly. He did not wish to release her hand, yet he knew he must indeed do so. Mono said their blessing, and they ate the meat.

The rest of the day was spent gathering up the brush as they had done earlier. When the moment took hold of him, Wander stole his strange glances at Mono, though the same sickly feeling struck a blow to his middle. And as they found and sealed the small crevices, he fought to keep his eyes upon the task at hand, yet it pained him to do so. Even in the eye of his mind, he could see the tanned skin of her legs, her feet, her shoulder, and he could not help but steal a glance at her. He wondered why it turned his belly to look, and why to hide his eyes brought a sharp sting. The thought came to him that the strange events of his younger days held any relation to the images that reeled him this day. He thought back to the strange images that had years ago plagued him. The sight of his mother's lifeless form had long since faded from his eyes, and he had also hoped they had likewise left his thoughts.

The strange voice that foreshadowed those horrid scenes also just then came to mind. He had not heard it once since that night, though it counted himself grateful for it. At once however, as though he had but to will the ghost to speak, the voice sounded again in his ears.

"Dost thou still continue to think on that which we have shown thee, or dost thou think no longer of it? Hast thou forgotten us?"

Wander excused himself on the premise of the need of relief, which Mono gladly permitted. He hurried away from her before he addressed the unseen figure.

"What is there for me to remember?" asked he with frustration ringing through his voice. "Why do you return to me now when I was glad all the years to hear nothing from you, and why do you continue to talk in riddles?"

"We dost not speak in such ways; what we have spoken of is clear, yet thou wilt not make any attempt to listen. No, thou must still cling to the false musings and illusions of thy youth."

"What does that even mean?" Wander nearly shouted. If he had not known his mother would have heard him, he no doubt would have. "What illusions are you talking about?"

"Dost thou still deny what we have made known to thee? Dost thou not wonder at thy own desires for she who shares this land with thee?"

"If you mean my mother, I don't feel anything."

"Do not lie, foolish vessel, for we feel what thee feels as well. Dost thou not desire to take her? Dost thou not feel the burning in thy heart or about thy loins? Dost thou not think that we cannot see thy thoughts? Indeed, we see thy hot longings, and yet thou understand them not?"

"What is there for me to understand?" At this, Wander thought he heard the strange voice laugh within his head. It continued to grow, yet there was no trace of glee within the sound. Instead, the laugh sounded as deep and dark as the pits of mire that he had once played in.

"Dost thou continue to ignore what we have shown thee of thy days? Yet, it is of no consequence, for sooner or later, thou wilt free us."

"I have no idea what you mean. My life was spent here since I was born, and if you wish to be free, then please go and leave me alone."

"Thou art a fool. Thou wilt deny even the truth when it is told to thee. Yet if thou wishes it, we shall silence ourselves for now. Know this, when thy heart can withstand no longer its own beating, thou wilt release us from this fleshy binding. Thou shall one day realize it, and surely thou shall wish thyself dead and she with you. Farewell, fool."

Wander stood there clawing at the ground with his toes in great uncertainty and agitation. The youth was glad that the voice had stilled, yet the words echoed still in the recesses of his thoughts. He wondered what the specter had meant; every word seemed a mystery to him. He wondered if he should ask his mother of it, but when he recalled the looks of fear upon her face so many years ago, he thought better of it. At length, he returned to her side. When Mono saw him, Wander winced as she saw the same worrisome look from long ago.

"Are you all right, son?" asked she.

"Yes," Wander replied rather doubtfully. In restless silence, they continued to work until nightfall. When they laid themselves upon the stone floor, the youth could find no rest. In restless dreams, he saw the many images that had followed him from his childhood appear again and again, and each one seemed to mock him through the mystery they posed. He tried once more to make sense of them, though they only tormented him with greater fervor at the attempt. What could they mean? Why did this creature, this ghost show them to him, and what did they have to do with the burning sensations coursing through his blood?

* * *

The days brought greater fatigue to the young man as the work continued through the fading days of that year. They had reaped the produce of the land, grown from the seeds of the many trees they had learned to plant. They had stocked their home with baskets Mono had woven together and filled them with meats of fish and fowl, preserved through smoke and the fruit dried by the sun. When Wander had asked her how she knew how to do this and why it had taken so long, Mono merely replied that it was all that remained of her life outside the land, and that she had never had one to help her manage it until he had aged. But while he was now strong in body, the work at hand seemed to leave Wander in need of greater rest, for he could hardly sleep at nights.

Daily, his ghosts and the pains of his heart stole what strength he held in his arms, and as he stood by the side of his mother, stranger thoughts came to his mind. He wondered what lay beneath her gown, worn as it was. He wondered if the skin beneath it was as tanned as her lower limbs and face. He even dared to wonder if she had flesh at all beneath the flowing false skin that she had draped herself in. But upon each thought, Wander felt as though he would vomit.

She was his mother, was she not? Wander counted it as vile that he should have such notions towards she who had bore him, yet he knew not why. He had not considered her anything less than his mother since he had been a child. He wished to know then why the tingling upon his flesh persisted in her presence and the pricks upon his mind stuck him as the thorns did to his feet. He knew not what he should do. He thought to ask Mono of it, but he knew not how.

* * *

Winter came, and winter went as it always had. They had spent the bleak days wrapped in the warmth of each others' embrace and before a burning fire, and Wander had felt strangely content in the company of his mother. Agro's aging flanks held little warmth, though they had lain against him nonetheless. Yet, he had also felt a growing discontent over those days. He had found himself drawn to Mono's face as her warmth found its way through her gown and to his skin. He recalled her offer of a cloak she had crafted and his refusal, finding her warm enough. Wander had looked into her darkened eyes, as though he had never seen such eyes before. He had found himself thinking of the lips of she who had sat beside him, shielding him from the cold. He had thought to place his own lips upon hers, if only to see what she would have done. Would she have pushed him aside, or would she have allowed it? Wander had done nothing of the sort, for he feared what would have followed, and yet the thought had also excited him. Yet, he knew nothing of a kiss or what such gestures meant; only that he wished to do so. It was not long though before the gray days of the dying year had passed. In fact, they had gone faster to Wander, for the air was already feeling warmer.

As he awoke that early spring morning, he noticed Mono was strangely absent. Looking about the shrine, he saw no sign of her. His only company was the worn beast who walked much slower than he had before. Agro neared the youth as he looked upon him. Wander marveled that the horse felt so drawn to him, yet he understood it not. He met the animal part way. He held out his hand to gently stroke Agro's nose, his head, and his flank, and the horse let out a grateful whinny.

"I wonder if you understand it," Wander said. He had found the horse a fine confidant during the previous days, and he wished to be able to speak his mind regarding the matters he dared not discuss. "I don't know what it is about my mother, but I almost wish she wasn't my mother."

The animal only gave a weak neigh. Wander nodded in accord before continuing.

"I've always thought she was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but now, it feels so different. I wonder if people out there," said he pointing towards the door that led to the gaping chasm that had long kept he and Mono apart from the world. "Did you ever feel this way, Agro?" Wander asked, though he realized the foolishness of asking such a question.

"What way do you suppose he feels?" Mono asked as she entered the shrine. Her voice was light and teasing, for she too found the question rather absurd and yet amusing. Wander walked to his mother, and cocked his head at the rather unusual device slung over her shoulder. It was old, that much was certain, for the strap about her seemed well worn. In her hand, she carried a curved stick forced into its shape by a taught cord of vine.

"What are those, Mama?" Wander asked with eager curiosity.

"This," Mono began, holding out the bound branch, "is what they call a bow." She let down the pack and set it on the floor at the feet of the man. Inside Wander saw a good number of small spears, for that is what they resembled. "I found this, and I kept it. I tried to keep it in good condition, and it is. These are called arrows, son, and you will use them. In the world out there, these were used as weapons to defend, but men also used them to hunt. Since you're a man now, my son, I think it's time you learned to hunt. Consider these birthday gifts."

As Wander looked at the gifts, he puzzled at why these weapons seemed so familiar to him. Just then, an image of a strange sort appeared among the clouds of his thoughts. A man with hair of red sat upon a black horse that, to the youth, greatly resembled Agro. He was clad in garments the likes of which Wander had never seen, and in his hand, he held a weapon much like the bow offered to him, yet it was of greater workmanship. What astounded the youth more than anything else was that this man he saw looked very much like him, only with no horns atop his head.

Lightly shaking his head, Wander accepted the gifts from Mono. "Thank you, Mama," said he, "but is it really my birthday today?"

"It was in the spring that you were born," she answered. "I don't know the day, but it is close enough. You wished to hunt the larger animals, and now you may. Carry that bow well, my Wander."

He did so, and though it took him a great deal of time, Wander became a master of the bow and arrow and the spear and stone knife. In the days that followed, it was not a rare sight for Mono to see him with a slain deer or boar slung over his shoulder, for he was a strong man. Though her eyes gleamed at the sight of the meat, Wander confided to Agro that he wondered if her eyes gleamed for him as well. On more than one occasion, the man felt such heat within his blood at the hunt, especially when his prey would dare to fight him. Mono would often scold him for his foolhardy escapades. The days after the hunt were long and tiresome. Mother and son worked through the day, skinning the carcasses and preparing the meat, some for eating and some to be preserved through smoke. The skins, Mono would keep to make clothes for them. When he helped her not, Wander would sit in the shrine, smelling the rich aromas of their labors. But as he watched Mono toil those days, he could not help himself but stare again at her.

Some days later, Mono met Wander with a single garment of deer hide that she had prepared. She had told him to wear it, but he had asked why he must or even why she must. He had always pondered the need of clothing, especially in the warmer days. She gave him no answer,and left him alone to clothe himself while she went to put her own new garments on. Wander cast aside the cloth that had girded him, and slipped on the dried skin clothing. He was glad that it fit him better and needed no tying. When Mono again came down, Wander could not keep his mouth from hanging open at the sight of her. Her legs, her arms, her shoulders, and a good deal of her neck stared back at him, and he could not help but stare at her previously concealed flesh, some tanned, some pale, yet he found her beautiful.

At once, Wander's cheeks filled with heat, like that of the hot ground underfoot. He could not find his voice, and when Mono asked him why he stared, he could give no answer. Later that night, Wander pondered the sight of his mother in that single garment of skin, and he kept that image with him, though it both pleased and shamed him to do so.

* * *

Days later though neither of them was sure of the count, the hours of spring felt more as the days of summer. The stones of the shrine pained the feet of Wander and even Mono as well. They spent most of their days outside in the cooler grass. Mono fanned herself with her hands, and at one point left her son. When he asked where she was going, she gave no answer, but told him to remain in this place. And then she was gone. Wander felt a sharp prick in the back of his mind; the prick of curiosity. Where was his mother going? What was she doing? She had done this on many occasions, and he thought nothing of it, but this day, Wander thought he would see for himself.

He set out in search of Mono, though, even unshod as she was, her trail was easy for him to follow. His hunts had made Wander into a fine tracker, and the ground was soft enough to allow the impressions of her feet. He walked for a fair distance from where he had begun, and the thrill of the hunt coursed through his veins. To Wander, he was tracking some graceful doe through the brush, and it excited him to do so. Yet, he also felt a degree of uncertainty at his course. He thought of how right it was that he should do this, but he silenced his persistent questioning. He wanted to know, and he reasoned that there was little harm in it. At length, he looked down to see a curious sight. It was Mono's garment lying upon the ground. At once, he felt his cheeks flush as he dared to look up.

It was indeed Mono, sitting in a small pool, with her back to him. She remained unmoving, for she heard him not as he neared. Wander's cheeks filled with a greater heat than before at the sight of her. Her long hair fell in a black veil behind her, shielding her from his eyes, and yet Wander cared not. He could only sit still and silently, but with the knowledge that he should not stare so. When at length, Mono pulled her hair aside, Wander felt his mouth slowly fall open at the sight of the unmarked flesh of her back. The man swallowed in uncertainty. He knew he should leave, yet he could bring himself to do so. His heart thundered within his chest, and each breath came quickly, far too quickly. His blood, slowly bubbling at first, now threatened to scald his body from the inside. Wander found himself inching forward, slowly, unsure of why. He knew not why he even continued to gaze at her.

All at once, however, Wander felt his insides rotting away as the previous heat gave way to the bitter chill of shame. He knew he should no longer stand there, and he slowly crept backwards, unable to take his eyes off of Mono's back. Unsure of his steps, Wander tripped and quickly scrambled to his feet before taking flight, this time fighting the urge to look behind him. Wander ran, hoping the image would flee from him just as he fled from the scene, but no matter how he tried, the image of her bare skin, wet and glistening, would not leave his thoughts.

When Wander at last reached the shrine, he paced fretfully back and forth, unsure of what he should do. He knew he must do something, but he knew not what. He knew not how to ease the flame still coursing through his blood nor the ice numbing his mind. He wished he had neared her, entered the bath with her, pressed his lips against her, and yet the thought of any of these things sickened him. He wished to be near her, and at the same time to flee from her, for surely she would wish him to leave if she knew. A great fear seized Wander. Had she seen him or heard him as he left? What would she say when she returned from bathing? Why did he now think of her in such ways? He wished that he was not so alone in this land, for what council could a horse or his own mother give him?

* * *

**A/N: **If you're still with me, I told you this was a hard chapter to write. I can't imagine how hard it was to read. I figured Wander would be at that age when he starts thinking about women, but the only woman around is Mono, so I thought he'd start thinking of her in that way, even though as far as he knows, she's his mother. Plus, he has no one to tell him anything about things like this, so he's probably in the dark about everything. I knew I wanted to capture the struggle he's probably going through as a man, but I wasn't sure how to go about it without making it grossly explicit, and I'm sure I probably failed a bit in that. That bath scene was really tough, but like I said, Wander has no idea why he's acting or thinking the way he does.

I hope I didn't drive any of you away from this fic. Like I said, this wasn't an easy bit to write about, but I thought it needed to be put in to show the complexities of such a simple life. If this got too much for you, then I apologize.


	10. Chapter 9: Old and Young

**A/N:** Ok, I am really sorry it took me this long to update. I know I said I had an idea of where I wanted to go, and I did, but I ended up losing track of things. I wasn't sure how to make it work, so I sat on it. Plus, I let some of my other works take priority over this. I hadn't forgotten this though, so I decided I would try and really work on it now. And the rest is history.

This chapter sort of builds on the last one. It's basically part of it from Mono's POV. After focusing on Wander for a while, I thought it might be interesting to see how she's dealing with his entry into manhood. I hope once again that it doesn't scare people off. Since we know nothing about her personality, I have to just go by assumption. But anyway, read on, and I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Old and Young**

Mono furiously waved her hand to fan herself, even as she sat in the small pool. The sun had burned with a greater fire that spring than any the woman had known previously, and she hoped to find some small respite from it. Her legs and feet were wet and cool as she bathed, but the rest of her uncovered body felt as though it would blister under the heated gaze overhead. She recalled that she had spent many years under the heat and chill as she worked in the land. Though her skin had grown accustomed to it, on days such as this, such familiarity did nothing.

She ceased fanning herself long enough to take a few handfuls of water to wet her skin. She wished that she had found a deeper pool, but she had no desire this day to hunt even for water. With such an eye glaring down upon her, she was willing to take the first offer of relief the land made to her, meager as it was.

Despite the heat, Mono sighed with contentment as she sat alone in the water. She had not known solitude for a number of years, and she missed the quiet companionship of it. Her thoughts could take their rest from constructing traps, killing the daily meals, and the endless toil of her life. She recalled the days when she had even dared to lie beneath a kinder sun with only her long hair to cover herself. Those days truly seemed of a simple sort, despite the worries and cares that had carried over from year to year. Perhaps, she thought it was because Wander had not yet grown.

As she recalled her son, Mono sighed again, though it was hardly the same as before. She was not at all content as she thought back to the man who was still very much a boy.

"What can I teach him?" she asked the still air and the buzzing insects. "I can't tell him the ways of men because I don't even know them. I know how to hunt, only out of the need to live. I know how to farm, but also only out of that same need. What else can I do to help him understand?"

In truth, Mono wished she could find the words to tell him what she thought he should know if only to help the both of them. She had seen when he thought she did not. She saw each deep look he gave her while they worked. She saw the reddened tint in his face on the days when she was close to him, and she saw the curious and often shamed looks in his eyes that often followed. Though it seemed so far away to her now, she could recall similar looks from the youths in her village. Some glances, she remembered, were directed at her, and others to girls she knew, but now could not recall. In the midst of such a fog about her head, she thought back to the words her mother had said as the days of her womanhood approached.

"It is perfectly natural for them to look at you in such a way. Remember, Mono, that you will one day be chosen by one, and you will have your duties to fulfill. You had best learn to accept it, for you have no other calling besides those womanly obligations."

Indeed, she supposed that it was quite natural for her to receive those looks in a place such as this, a land where all manner of civilization held no meaning. Still, such looks frightened her, and she grew even more fearful when she saw those looks from the man she called her own son.

"He doesn't know any better," Mono whispered. Such an understanding brought her a slight comfort, but even so, she wondered what Wander might someday do. She wondered if such natural things would overtake him. Could he fail to think of her as his mother when he could find no other woman to fill the role that she no doubt would have filled had fate seen fit to allow it? It was a thought Mono wished not to entertain, a thought that would frighten any mother. Yet, deep within her belly, it was a thought that in some way stoked some long dead flame.

Wander was not her son, at least not by birth. Though he had failed to conceal those secretive glances, she was not without blame herself. In their daily labors, Mono had noted him. Wander was a strong man, crafted by the land. He could lift stone with ease when she could not. She had even smiled inwardly when he had scaled whatever cliff he could find, though she had chastised him for it. Yes, he was indeed strong, and Mono knew such a man could provide for her, even in such a place as this. The thought of Wander as such a man lit such a fire within her and yet brought a cold, but pleasing, shiver to her skin. Any woman would have found fit to wed him had they lived anywhere else, and they would have thought right to do so. More than this, Wander reminded Mono of the man she had once known and lost.

"Perhaps he is somewhere inside," she said to the still air. "Maybe Wander is locked somewhere inside him." Could the gods truly smile upon her in so wondrous a way? If Wander lived within the man she called by his name, what could keep them from each other? If she but knew for certain, then they could live as surely they would have those many years ago. It was the one memory that had remained with her, even as she lived the life of a savage, as others would have thought. "Maybe there is still hope that we can still have that life together," Mono added, with a voice sounding quite eager.

The thought made her heart leap within her, and again she felt the familiar flame inside her and the stirring shiver running down her back. Her words earlier spoken carried such youthful fervor, and indeed, she felt younger than her years, though she knew not why. Wander would surely emerge from the man who shared more than his name. His face and eyes were the same as the man she had known. Save for the two horns, he was the very image of the man. Why should she not feel some strange hope that it would be so?

Mono quickly splashed water on her face, shaking away the sudden chill she felt shortly after. The drops that clung to her returned to the pond, and with them went the foolish notions. She was surely not in her right mind. Though she had not given birth to him, Wander was all but her son. Her arms had carried him, her voice had soothed him, her breasts had nourished him, and her life was spent as the life of a mother to him. Such thoughts were hardly right to think, and she knew it well. All the years of raising him had worked their way upon her as did the endless labors simply to ensure that she would see another day. Mono knew there was hardly time for such youthful impulse.

Matters such as hunting the game to sustain them and keeping the shrine to shelter them always were at the forefront of her thoughts. Had she lived a different life, it would likely resemble this one in many ways. Even so, Mono wished she could have lived that life, for she might not have aged so quickly.

Mono shifted slightly in order to lie upon her belly. As she did so, she happened to look down, and she saw her face staring back at her through the clear water. She examined her reflection for a moment, ignoring the buzz of the insects nearby. The burning on her shoulders she likewise paid little mind, although she would have welcomed a passing cloud or a cooling wind. As she stared at the visage, she marveled at it. She knew not her age, but she supposed that she was a woman of at least thirty, perhaps more or perhaps less. Yet, she showed no appearance of age.

Her face bore no signs of care or worry. Her hair remained black as it always was. Her darkened eyes kept sharp, and her body retained its strength, both of youth and of her many labors. In appearance, she was very much young, but in her heart, Mono could feel the weariness of age. Her soul seemed as though it had walked for more years than she had lived. She felt no weariness of her many troubles that accompanied her motherhood or even her labors. No, in the place of such normal things, she felt weary with the world.

She tired of having lived so long and appearing so youthful. She tired of the repetition that came year after year. She tired of the senselessness that seemed to befall her; she was alive after death and a mother who was still a maiden. It was fortunate for her, of that she had no doubt, and yet it seemed to frustrate her.

Her hand slid over her chest so that could feel the steady beating beneath her palm. She did nothing else for a time. With each thump of her heart, Mono found herself gently sobbing. What would become of her, she wondered. Would she remain so young even as Wander aged? Would her destiny cause her to live alone in this land? Must she someday bury her own son while she lingered on? As she pondered this, Mono thought such a fate was surely cursed. No destiny could be worse than one such as this.

"I should have stayed dead," said she in between the tears that mingled with her bathwater. "I would rather have died than live entirely alone in this land." She thought back of the days when Wander was still but a baby, and the despair those days had brought her. She had entertained such notions even then. On one dismal winter's day, she recalled how she even thought to take her own life. She had lived for the sake of the child, and she knew she would do so again, even if he was a now a man. Yet, as she thought what life she would lead if she lived beyond him, she wondered if she would end it upon that day.

At length, Mono took a heavy breath, hoping to send such thoughts away from her. It was foolish to think in such a way. Such selfish ideas had no place in her mind, despite how easy they came to her. If the gods saw fit to smile upon her, then maybe such a terrible lot would change. She sat upright and reached behind her to pull her long hair around her. Mono set about wetting what she could of it.

"I wonder if Wander could cut it for me," she uttered in a lighter voice. "If I sharpened a stone, I'm sure he would. It would be far less of a nuisance if it was shorter." She stopped long enough to throw a handful of water across her back before she turned back to her hair.

The sudden shifting of earth and the rustle of grass met her ears just then. Her back stiffened, and her skin tightened at the sound. Her hand released her ebony tresses. They fell to the water, scattering about though Mono paid no need to then. When she had first come to bathe, she was certain she was alone, and now such certainty vanished as a morning fog. She had told Wander to remain at the shrine; he would not disobey her. But if it was not Wander, then who or what could it have been?

Mono's arms quickly sprang up to cover her, as meager a covering as they were. She looked around, except behind her, for she was so lost in thought that she knew not from where the sound had come. Was it to her right or left? She cared not. All she could feel was the frantic beating of her heart and the fearful gasps through her nose. All thoughts of youth and age were lost to her as a worse thought fell upon her as the heat of the sun fell upon her naked shoulders.

"Surely Wander wouldn't do such a thing?" she said. "He wouldn't even think about coming out here." But even as she spoke those words, the frightened woman for a moment considered the terrible possibility that her own son had indeed followed her. If he had, she wondered what he might have seen. The thought make Mono feel ill. Should she rise? Should she stay? Was Wander still somewhere among the grasses? "He couldn't have done this," she added, though she said it only to calm herself.

Taking a quick glance about her, Mono rose from the pool and hurried to where she had laid her skin garment. She quickly dressed, despite the drops of water still clinging to her. As she glanced down at herself, she wished that her legs did not stick out so. She had thought to make her clothing more modest, yet she had not considered this sickening thought. The very idea made Mono quite ill, so much so that her belly drove her to her knees, and she expelled though she had eaten nothing since that morning. Standing to her feet again, she ran towards the shrine.

When she at last returned, she found her son sitting on the floor. Wander had not noticed her, for he continued to stare before him with no expression. From where she stood, however, Mono could see a harsh tint of red in his cheeks. It was a tint far deeper than any burn of the sun. Already, she could feel her heart fall deep into her belly.

"Wander," she said softly. He did not move at first, but when he did, she could see the look of shame in his eyes. All at once, she knew the truth, though she could not bear to accept it. He had indeed followed her. He said not a word to her as she neared him. He seemed to pay her no mind at all, save in sorrowful and even regretful glances. Mono only passed by him as she continued up to the garden. Alone again, she found herself idly kicking the small pebbles about her. When she could no longer abide that, she began striking at larger stones. She cared not for the pain upon her toes, for she was far too angry, far too astonished, and far too humiliated to think of minor hurt. She knew not why she did so. Perhaps an ache in the body might bring a sensation into her deadened thoughts.

"Is this what such a place will do to him?" she asked, looking down at her bruised feet. "Will he become as the animals are; driven by whatever compels them? If he ends up like an animal, what will I become?"

When she laid herself down to sleep that night, she slept as far from her son as she could manager. She instead chose one of her crude spears to lie with her, though she hated the idea of it. Despite the sharp weapon by her side, Mono hardly slept at all. What could she say to Wander? What could she say to herself?

* * *

**A/N: **Let me just say this; I don't have the faintest idea of what goes on in women's heads. Sometimes, I don't even know what goes on inside a man's head, and I'm a guy. But I figure that it's probably a two-way street. Wander feels attracted to Mono just because she's the only woman around, even though he believes that she's his mother. Now, Wander, I figure is pretty trim from having to work so hard to survive just like Mono does. Plus, since he probably looks just like Wander the character, Mono might also think about him in the same way. Plus, when you take two people out of civilization and throw them into the wild, they might start thinking less about society. Of course, I have no idea about that, so I just have to run on assumption.

Hope you liked it and again sorry for the delay. I will say that I don't have any idea of where I'll head with this. Well, I have some idea, but we'll see how it goes.


	11. Chapter 10: The Horse and The Rider

**A/N:** Five months. Even I couldn't believe it when I saw how long it had been since I updated this. I have nothing to say except I'm really sorry to have left you hanging this long. I never meant for this story to just drop off like that, but it just happened. I had school and other stories that I wanted to get posted too. I always planned on getting back to the forbidden lands, but it just seemed to get pushed back. I hope all of you readers didn't give up on this, and I'm sorry it took me so long to finish it. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.

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**Chapter 10: The Horse and The Rider**

Wander sat alone, just a few steps from the shrine. The air was thick and dripping, and the sun beat mercilessly down upon him. Only a few days had passed since his had spied the uncovered skin of Mono's back, and Wander knew not what to make of it. Mother and son had hardly spoken since then. He noted that they rarely even ate together. She would prepare the meal, and then she would leave him. The day after he had spied her bathing, Wander had known that she now feared him. He had seen it in her darkened eyes. In all truth, he was as fearful of himself. He had brought pain upon himself when he saw the worrisome spark looking back at him. It had burned him, and now he sat with his own back towards the burning, punishing eye above him, allowing it to scorch him.

If that had not been enough, Wander looked down upon the bruises that littered his chest. He had beaten his hands upon himself that day, and he still bore the marks. He knew not why he had done so, but he supposed that it was a due reward. When Mono had seen them, she appeared as any mother would at seeing her child harmed. But he had moved away from her, unsure of what he might do should she place a hand upon him. He had not told her, but he was glad of the pain he had done upon him, for it had driven such thoughts from him. It had not lasted, yet relief of any length gladdened him.

Wander drew his knees up to his chin. He felt such shame at what he had done, and he knew he should. Yet, he wondered why he wished that image to linger at times. He did not know what word he could say to describe Mono. He had always glanced at the shape of her legs as they worked, the gleam in her dark eyes, the flowing stream of black from her head, the shade of her skin, and he found each of them stirring, and he could not find any word he knew that would fit. He had seen many blossoming plants that had produced buds and later flowers of all colors when their time was right. He wondered if he could fittingly compare Mono to such as those, although she seemed far different from any growing thing. He did not even know how to describe those first fruits of the earth, and so he doubted that such a description would fit her.

It was not just her form he found stirring, but her heart as well. He had seen her face so many hardships, and she had come through them. With her by his side, he had done the same. Yet, the days seemed to have chilled her, just as winter chilled the land. Wander supposed that the fault was also his for having spied on her.

It was the middle of the day, and it was not long before he would eat with her. When he joined Mono in the shrine, they hardly spoke a word to each other. Wander looked upon her in between bites of the fish that she had caught. She sat a fair distance from him, resting on her knees, instead of crossing her legs beneath her. Even at the distance he was, Wander could see cares he could not understand working their way across her youthful face. She seemed to fear him, and though she had reason, it was but another unanswered question to the confused man.

He still wished he could cross the floor to her side, and he knew not why. To him, it felt as though he hungered, but food could not satisfy. He wished he could ask her of such things, but he knew not how to do so. Why did he feel so ill and yet so pleased in her presence? Why did he find himself thinking about her? Why did he feel the need to follow her that day? Why did he feel a strange tightness against his garment when his dwelled upon her for such a long time? He wondered if she could give him answers or if she would merely dismiss him.

Wander growled in frustration as he ate. His shoulders hunched forward as a scowl appeared upon his face. He found himself unable to abide the taste of fish. He wanted meat, but he had not hunted. It gladdened him to have a new thought to chase away the old ones. When he had finished, he sought out the company of his bow and the small skin quiver of arrows. They were such fitting companions for one such as he. They did not shy away from his touch, nor did they look upon him with ill-favored eyes. Yes, he would hunt today, and perhaps at least quench his hunger for meat. But a new thought began to grow alongside his longing for the flesh of animal. Looking up the winding path, Wander supposed that he could hunt in a rather new way.

Journeying up to the gardens, he found the horse, Agro idly grazing among the browning grass. Though she had told him little, Mono had once mentioned how men would ride beasts such as this one. The ears of the horse twitched as he heard the sound of approaching footfalls, and his head sprung up to meet his visitor. As Wander neared the animal, Agro neared the man. When they met, Wander reached out to stroke the horse as he had often done.

It seemed to him that Agro was very much like Mono. In his eyes, Wander could see the cares of age, yet though he seemed slower than when his visitor was but a boy, the horse also seemed to have a slight spark of youth within his flanks. The young man was most hopeful that such a small burning had not died, as was the way of fire. Though flame would turn to ash in time, Wander hoped that it was not so with the animal. Allowing the beast to smell his hand, Wander led the horse away from the shrine.

It amazed him that Agro would willingly follow his lead without restraint to compel him. Though he had grown with the animal, Wander knew not the ways of a horseman, though he had known from Mono's words that men would ride them. He was glad that his mother was not in the shrine as he left; he did not wish to give any answer if she had seen him and no doubt asked what he intended on doing with the old horse. When they were a safe distance from the shrine, Wander stopped and looped the strap of his quiver around his shoulder. With bow in hand, and the strap running across his bare chest, he wondered if he looked anything like the hunting men who lived outside the land.

Coming up to the side of his companion, he gently lifted one leg and soon, he found himself atop Agro. He beamed with pride as he thought of what he had now done. Mono had not permitted him to do anything such as this when he was a boy, and so he felt quite pleased to have seated himself upon his fellow traveler. He knew not at first how to urge the horse forward, but he soon found that with a light kick, Agro indeed moved, as if it were in his nature to do so.

With no thought to where he would ride, Wander turned the horse away from the shrine to the south, though he did not know such a direction.

* * *

The calling of birds and the rustling of hurried wings sounded over the grasses as Wander rode Agro among them. The horse neighed and whinnied in sounds that his rider could only guess were the sounds of glee. As the fowl took to the air, Wander notched and shot arrow upon arrow at his prey. With a kick, he urged the horse into a run hoping to bring even a single bird to the ground. Agro's hooves thundered against the ground. His breaths loudly sounded in Wander's ears. Wander's own heart was beating wildly as his body shook from their pace. Upon the sight of more birds to his left, Wander dug his knee into the flanks of his bearer, and Agro turned. He knew not how he knew to guide the horse, but he did not care. Again, he loosed an arrow, reveling in the rapid pace of his beating heart and Agro's beating hooves.

With a great cry, he urged the horse on faster in pursuit of his winged game. Left and right, he turned Agro as he caught sight of them. He did not know their names or even if they were fit to eat, but Wander did not care at present. He only wished to continue the hunt. At times, he thought he saw a bird fall from the sky. At other times, he knew only his arrow had fallen.

When at last, his quiver was emptied, he tugged sharply on the hairs of his friend, and Agro came to an obedient halt. Wander marveled at how he knew to do this, or that an animal such as this one should know to stop for such a silent command. Wander dismounted, grunting slightly as the force at which his feet met the ground. He turned his eyes skyward, and he watched many flocks flying here and there shouting whatever warnings birds would give their fellows. His arrows were spent. He supposed Mono would reprimand him for wasting them with no game to present to her. Wander cared not for it. All that he thought of was the quickened beating of his heart, the rapid breathing of he and his companion, the loosening of his boiling blood in the thrill of the hunt. Yet some strange sensation coursed along his back, as though something were crawling in time with each beat of his heart.

Wander quickly dismissed it, for he was too pleased to think ill of the moment. Spreading his arms, he cried out, "I am a man!" He knew not why he made such a declaration, for he knew so little of the ways of man. Yet as he felt the release of his earlier burdens in such a savage sport, he felt as if he were truly one. A nervous neigh from Agro, however, cooled his blood, and he supposed that his shout had frightened the horse. Stroking his nose again, Wander walked a fair distance and called for the horse. He had determined that he should walk so that he might find his arrows, if they had indeed felled a bird. When Agro came to him, he set off back along the trodden path they had made.

When he had come again to the shrine, the afternoon was beginning to age. He had gone slowly as he searched along the path, but he had only come across three birds in number with an arrow stuck through them. He carried them slung over his shoulder, and he had felt the slow coursing of blood for a moment before the carcasses had run dry. It did not frustrate him to have lost so many arrows, for Wander felt strangely happy at what he had done. He wondered if he had done any great feat to hunt from the back of a horse, and he wondered what might Mono think of his deed.

He saw her standing at the top of the winding path. She hurried down to him, and when she drew nearer, Wander saw the look of worry common to his mother appear again in her eyes.

"Where have you been, my son?" she asked. Wander could not help but again look over the tanned skin of her limbs, and yet on this occasion, he seemed to push any notion aside. "Where have you been, and why have you taken Agro?" Mono asked again.

"I went hunting, mother," he replied, holding up the fruits of his labor. They were not plump birds, but they were still of a rather good size. The necks were what truly set them apart from the other sorts of fowl Wander had seen in their home, for they were quite long. He thought that perhaps Mono would know their name, and he was curious to know.

"Three geese," she said, "Three geese for all of your arrows."

Wander frowned at the mention of his losses, and he quickly answered back, "It was the first time I hunted birds, mother. Isn't that worth something?"

"Of course is it, son. But we need your arrows to survive, just as we need my fishing spears and snares. You can't waste them because we will need to make more. Tomorrow, I want you to gather the wood and stones that you'll need; but for now, well done."

At her words, the hunter's face brightened, and he proceeded to tell Mono of how he forced his prey to the air and shot them as they flew, though he said nothing of his riding Agro.

"I wish you could have seen me," he added with excitement.

"I imagine you were quite the sight, Wander. You are becoming a great hunter. But tell me this, how did you keep up with them? Did you ride Agro?"

At once, Wander let his eyes fall to the ground. He had been found out. He clenched one hand into a fist and pawed the ground with one foot. He knew not what he could say, save for two words. But as he thought to say them, his face willed itself to rise. Mono tilted her head as his eyes met hers. Though he could see them not, his eyes seemed to reflect a pride in his work. The thought that he should feel no shame in what he had done began to swell within his chest, and he answered firmly, "I did."

Mono sighed and her shoulders sagged. "I have told you since you were a boy that you were not to ride him. How do you even know how to ride a horse?"

"I don't know, but I did it."

"Wander, Agro, is old. He is strong, but he is still old."

"He doesn't look it," Wander answered back.

"He may not, but that does not change his age. And though you may have found it thrilling, what you did was more foolhardy. Wander, I have known men to be killed with such recklessness. If Agro had thrown you, I would probably be digging your grave. For my sake, son, please don't ride him."

"But he didn't throw me, and I plan on riding him again." Mono bared her teeth in an exasperated fit.

"First you were climbing walls. Now, you're hunting while on horseback. Can you obey in this? Wander, I forbid you to ride Agro as you did. When you sleep tonight, think about me and what it will be like if I have to bury you." A silent clap of thunder sounded between mother and son, and it shook the two of them as they continued to look upon each other. Unfaltering streaks of lightning flashed across their eyes. Each breath was an unrelenting gale. At length, however, the storm passed, and Mono reached to take the fowl her son had claimed. "Come," she said, her voice now softer, "let's prepare these fine birds."

Wander watched as Mono removed the feathers and set about preparing their meal for the night. She held back as much meat as she was able in order to preserve the rest for their winter store. Any part she knew how she might use, she saved. Even as he observed her cooking the meat in gratitude, another part of him felt a twinge of disdain at her ordering him about as if he were still a child. He was a man. She had said the words herself once, and he had proclaimed it. A single spark of disregard lit within him. He gave no thought to putting it out, and by the time he slept, it had fanned itself into a flame. When he thought of the rushing of the wind against his face, the rumbling of hooves in his ears, the pounding of his heart within his chest, and the wild thrill of the rapid hunt, Wander silently resolved to ride again as he had done.

* * *

At the sun's first waking, Wander arose before Mono. He looked around to spot her sleeping form some ten steps away from where he had lain. He silently crept to the winding path, though he winced as the chills of the morning dew pierced his bare feet. Still, he found the coolness a comfort when he thought of the burning sun and dripping air of the late morning and midday. Slowly, he made his way to the path. With a nervous swallow, he began to descend it. Once or twice, he had to catch himself as the collected dew unsteadied him. He feared that he might fall, and Mono would doubtlessly hear him should he cry out. He let his tongue run over his lips, even though he did not know why, and he continued.

When he reached the bottom, Wander crept to a hole in the wall where his mother would store the dried meat. He reached his hand into the gap, and it returned with a large piece of what was one deer meet. Holding it tightly, Wander left. He quickened his pace but only slightly. Only when he reached the grasses outside did he will his legs to run, though he slowed himself again to eat. His belly full, he set himself to the task of finding small stones with which he could sharpen into arrowheads and also long sticks to craft into arrows. He thought that it would take a good part of the day to fill his skin quiver again, and so he thought it best to begin at this early hour. For most of the morning, his efforts gained him little, although as morning gave way to midday, Wander began to find the needed stones.

When the sun again glared hotly down upon his shoulders, Wander turned his steps back towards the shrine. The grasses, once chilled, were now a dried and prickly path underfoot, and though he had long grown accustomed to such a rough course, he was not pleased to walk upon it. Yet, he beamed when he thought of the thrill that he would no doubt have. He had only found three sticks and four rocks, but Wander cared not for the number. He cared only for the arrows that they would make.

At length, he returned to the shrine, only to find Mono waiting for him with a most displeased face. Her hands rested disapprovingly upon her hips, and again her foot rose and fell as it always did when her mood turned foul. "Where have you been?" she asked sharply.

"I went looking for wood and stones to make arrows," Wander admitted, holding up what few he had. At this occasion, he found it far too easy to forget what strange stares he would have given her. He disliked how she spoke to him.

"Why did you leave without saying so?"

"I didn't think I needed to say anything. After all, if I'm a man, I shouldn't have to come to you just to ask."

"It's not a matter of permission, Wander," Mono replied with a glare. Wander noticed one hand tightening into a fist. "I have always come to tell you of where I plan to go for the day. For that matter, why did you leave so early?"

Wander felt his back grow stiff as the question reached his ears. He could feel a slight bead of sweat forming on his brow. He thought back to the days of the strange voices and images that came to him in sleep, for he had not given an answer to her then. "I thought you might have kept me busy," he said at last, "and I wanted to get this done first. We do need the meat, don't we?"

His mother said nothing at first. The two of them only stared at each other. As he looked upon her, Wander could see an indiscernible glint in Mono's eyes. Was it doubt or disbelief? Was it disappointment that he had spoken untruthfully, although he understood little of the ways of guile or deceit? Was it fear then? The thought that he was now being challenged roared within his mind, and at once, he felt his face grow hot in anger. His muscles grew tight, as he continued to meet her gaze. Though he could not see his own eyes, he appeared to her as if he were hoping to dissuade her as though he was a great bear. He thought he saw her take a slight step back, though he knew not for certain if she had. At last, Mono spoke.

"We do, but next time, please tell me where you are going before you set off on your own." Her voice was soft and gentle, and Wander felt as if he were growing smaller as her answer calmed him. Slowly, she approached her son. "Now, let's eat and start on the work that we have to do for winter."

* * *

It took a count of three days before Wander had crafted enough arrows to fill his quiver. For one day, he continued to forage and gather wood, rock, and crawling plant. For the second and third, he cut the wood and made it into shafts, sharpened the stones, and fixed them together with the plants. All the while, he thought with boyish excitement of the coming ride atop the grand horse that he only now learned to ride. He, on occasion when he was left alone, could not help but act as if he were already on the back of Agro, and it was as if the rushing wind were already blowing over his face. When at last he had stocked his quiver, Wander could hardly bring himself to sleep that night. For tomorrow would bring the hunt, and at last, he knew he could put aside what notions the sight of his mother brought to his mind. Yet before he would forget such dreams, in sleep, he could not help but dream again of her.

The next day, after he had eaten and Mono set herself to work, Wander took Agro, and again rode over the land. For much of the ride, he urged the horse into runs, though he now slowed him in order to survey his surroundings. Sitting on top of the great animal, Wander thought much of himself. He knew nothing of kings, for he had never heard the word. However, as he sat tall and proud and looking over as far as the eye could see in each direction, he felt as though he were indeed one. This land was his domain, and it brought him pride to think of it as such. Spotting movement ahead of him, Wander gently kicked Agro to spur him into a walk.

Across the way, Wander's eyes fell upon a number of deer. They had not yet heard him, for they kept their heads down. He was still a fair distance from his prey, but he smiled as if he had walked into their midst unseen and unknown. His shoulders tensed, and his back stiffened as he made ready. Preparing his bow, Wander urged his horse into a run. His lips parted as a loud cry pushed its way them. The head s of the deer suddenly darted up in wonder and fear. By instinct, they began to flee, but the hunter was not deterred. With a neigh, Agro gave chase, and his master turned his bow here and there, shooting arrows towards the flanks of his quarry.

Though he only felled a single deer, Wander again felt such pride in his chest that he again looked into the sky and called out with a primal cheer. His heart pounded again within him, and he danced about, kicking up small pieces of dirt. He did not know why he carried on in this way, but he did not think on it.

In this way, Wander continued to hunt. He would goad the animals into flight, only to pursue them. Often he was rewarded with no meat, but the days came when he brought home a hearty deer or even a few birds. But he no longer thought of the necessity of his efforts. All he thought of was the wild rush of the wind and the thrill that was now his. Even when Mono spotted him leading Agro back to the shrine, he was not discouraged. He was reprimanded often sternly, but he cared not. He would continue to do this thing, if only to spare himself and her the heated glances and notions that had followed the few years that he had come of age.

One warm night, after of hunting as he did for a count of four days, Wander lay down in the garden, looking up at the clear sky. His hands rested behind his head, and his face was agleam with pride. He had only recently returned from another hunt, and though his mother had again met him with wrath, he was quite content. He had not thought of Mono as he once did. Even the sight of her limbs and her neck did not stir him as before. Oh, he still found her a sight to behold, but he was gladdened to have found something that stirred his blood far more. Though he still found himself question the thoughts that lingered on, he no longer felt the need to ask why or fearfully think of asking Mono of them.

He smiled as he thought of all he had done. He lived only now for the hunt and the thrill of success, both in the kill and in eluding his mother. He could easily forget her words of rebuke. He could easily put aside the shameful glances he had given her. He could easily put aside those unearthly voices that had once haunted him. He remembered them far too well, but he no longer allowed himself to ponder the meaning of what they had spoken to him. But they continued to whisper in his ear, despite his efforts to silence them.

"_Know this, when thy heart can withstand no longer its own beating, thou wilt release us from this fleshy binding."_

With every moment, he heard those words echo and again until at last he fell asleep. He knew not if the voices spoke again because of what he had done, but he cared not. If they thought to keep him from riding, then they too would find that he would not be stopped.

* * *

**A/N: **Seems like nothing much happened right? I mean Wander's just learning to hunt. But I figured that with how he's feeling towards Mono, he would welcome any sort of distraction since he still doesn't get it. You also have to figure that he would probably come to ask himself why he couldn't ride Agro, espeically since they know each other. Besides, you had to figure he'd be even a bit rebellious. But I wanted to really give the message that in a way, he's self-medicating if you will. Except instead of Mono, now he has being a thrill seeker to focus on.

For those of you who are wondering why he's able to ride Agro especially after his big fall in the game, think back to one of the earlier chapters. Since Dormin is no longer split up, I figured that it's power might still be leaking out slightly, so I had it heal Agro's leg. And that's also given him some other effects. Not bad for an old horse.

I had also intended on something slightly different when I started this chapter, but it sort of grew in its own way. By the time I got to that last bit, I thought it was time to stop because it was just getting longer. I also thought it might be a good idea to link back to Dormin talking to him.

Anyway, once again, I'm sorry it took so long to finish this. Hopefully, it doesn't take me so long to finish it. Let me warn you in advance, it's going to be a doozy, at least I hope it will.


	12. Chapter 11: A Promise Made

**A/N:** Well, it took longer than I'm sure everyone would like, but I finally managed to get some work done in this. At least it didn't take five months this time. Consider this an early Christmas present from me. I hoped to get it done before then, so I put as much time as I could into this, which wasn't easy for the record.

I know I said that this chapter would be a real doozy, but it didn't quite go the way I planned. Still, it might just be a doozy in its own way.

Hope you enjoy this.

* * *

**Chapter 11: A Promise Made**

_All was black around him. He could see nothing; no sun, no moon, and no star shown above his head. Wander did not know where he was. Was he in the shrine? Where was his mother? At the thought of her, she appeared before his eyes, clothed in the gown she had worn since he was small, though it appeared in better condition than he knew it to be. She seemed to glow with the same radiance of the sun, though it was not as harsh. Her face was warm and happy. Just then, Wander saw a man approach her. He was clad in a strange outfit, covered with equally strange markings. The man's hair was a shade of red not unlike his own, though there were no horns upon his head. He, too, smiled warmly and brightly at the sight of Mono. He crossed the distance to her and took one hand in his own, while the other gently pulled her towards him. Wander saw him lower his face towards Mono's while she brought hers up to his. The man placed his lips upon his mother's, and Wander tilted his head in curiosity at the gesture. Suddenly, Wander found his eyes looking down upon Mono. His face was so near to her. His lips were against hers. Wander's eyes widened in shock as he kissed her. He was now the man. He knew he should break away, and yet, her lips, soft and warm against his, held him. Without knowing why, his hand came to rest upon Mono's back, his fingers gripping the cloth of her gown. He tilted her head back with the other hand, and she allowed it as the kiss deepened._

Wander awoke with a sudden lurch. His heart pounded in his ears, but it did not bring the same elation as it did when he rode Agro. His hips shuddered and leaped against his will, and he knew not how to make them stop. His head turned this way and that. One hand fell against his bare chest, and he felt each fretful beat of his heart. His breathes came quickly and with fear. He had never had a dream such as this, though he had many he wished to forget.

At length, his breathing slowed, and his middle no longer lurched wildly. His heart continued to beat quickly, and he felt beads of sweat trickling down his brow. Wander sat up and turned his eyes to the sky. The full moon overhead shone brightly upon the land, and the small eyes of the night looked kindly upon him. He looked to his right to spot his mother lying upon the grass, still held in the hands of sleep. Her back was to him, and he was glad of the long veil of hair that shielded her from his eyes, for he doubted that he could bear the sight of her skin.

Wander wiped his brow, glad that he had not woken her. The dirt that clung to his back made him feel oddly dirtied, though he had lied upon the ground all the days of his life. He could not understand why it now seemed so unwelcome. Slowly, he rose and crept out into the land. He knew the paths well, even in the night. He felt so covered with earth that he felt the need to make himself clean. He walked and sometime ran until he found a pond.

He threw his garment aside and all but jumped into the water. The chill of the pond stung his flesh, and he cried out until he grew accustomed to it. He splashed water upon his body, and he threw himself beneath the surface, yet he felt no cleaner. He did this again, and again, he felt no different. A third time, Wander threw himself into the water, and again, he felt no different, save that he felt wetter.

He took his garment, cringing as he did, and held it under the water as well. He sat there until he felt his legs grow numb. He was glad of the warmth of the air of the summer night upon his chest, for he thought it fortunate that this had not happened in the midst of winter. He sat in frightful pondering of the dream that had awoken him. Often had he thought of Mono, except when his mind filled itself with the thrill of the chase atop the back of his horse. Yet, even when he had gazed upon her as they worked, this thing had not happened.

The hours grew long, and the nightly shadows were soon giving way to the coming of the dawn. Wander had, by now, forgotten the time, and when he saw the darkened sky clothing herself with the gentle blue and orange of morning, the man in the pond knew he had lingered for far too long. He rose from where he sat and slipped on his dripping garment. He began his lonely walk back towards the shrine. His head bent itself in uncertain shame, and his steps were slow as the sun rose overhead.

When he passed a series of stone buildings, he thought it best to pause and dry his clothing. By now, the wet garment had grown heavy, meager as it was. And so, he scaled one house and laid it down to dry in the sun, while he stretched himself out upon the stone roof.

At first, Wander found it comforting to lie in the warm caress of the sun as it climbed higher and higher, though the stone grew hotter against his bare skin. He felt strangely free here, for he could put all disturbing thoughts away from his mind. Here he had nothing to trouble him. Yet, he also had much to trouble him. The sun's soft gaze became a glaring eye, and he had no veil, no cover to shield him. He could see those same visions, exposed before his eyes. Again, his mind turned to its earlier ponderings about the dream he had had that morning.

He had, on many an occasion, dreamed of Mono, yet no dream had ever come as this one. He recalled how she would only stand in the darkness before his eyes. In his dreams of late, he had seen no man, no other figure besides her. And now, very much like the dreams of his childhood, Wander saw the same man with her. But never before had he been that man, nor did his dreams cause him to shake so violently. It had frightened him, and yet, when he had first awoken, he recalled some strangely pleasing sensation coursing through his veins, cooling his blood as it went. More than that, he could, even now, feel the softness of Mono's lips against his own. Often had he wondered what would she do if he were to do such a thing, and now, he wondered if her lips were truly as delicate as they were in his sleep.

"Maybe I could find out for myself," he said aloud.

No sooner did he speak than the same sickly feeling well up within his belly. Was she not still his mother? Was she not? How could he think of such things?

Wander began to wish that he were not truly alone in this land. Why could he not find others, others that he might have such attachments? His thoughts shouted curses towards the sky and whatever gods watched over this land. The man had also many times wondered if this land had such beings, though Mono seemed to think so. He wondered if they had placed others here at one time long before he was born. If they had, he thought it strange that they should take them away. Why did only he and his mother live here? Surely, others had come before him, and surely, they had felt what he now felt. Why could he not find one he could speak to of this, save for Agro?

"Agro," Wander uttered. Yes, perhaps it would be good for him to take the horse and ride as he had done before. He could hurry back to the shrine and take his friend if only to replace the fretful beating of his heart with the thrilled thundering that he had enjoyed. Besides, he was sure Mono was, by now, walking the floor in motherly fear for him. Rising, he picked up his garment. It was still wet, but only slightly. After he had dressed, Wander brought himself to the ground and hurried back towards his home.

* * *

When Wander returned, Mono was angry with him. Again, she told him of her worries and fears when he departed without as much as a word. Her son hung his head and clasped his hands in shame as he listened. Her words felt as the hot sun in his ears, heated and scorching. Though he could not see her, Mono paced fretfully back and forth, until she came up to him and sized him by the arms. Wander winced at the grasp of her fingers, strong for a woman, though he did not know that.

"Do you understand me, Wander?" she asked. "You are all I have. I cannot and will not lose you, and every time you run off, I worry that you may never come back. Please, for my sake, tell me if you intend to leave here."

Wander could only nod in humble submission. He dared not speak a word of the dream that had provoked him into fleeing, for he thought it would only arouse her anger further. Yet, Wander still allowed his thoughts to return to that image. He marveled at how it frightened him and pleased him at the same time, though more times than not, it caused him to give in to fear. And when Mono released him, Wander walked silently to a corner of the shrine. He sat there in restless ponderings, until his belly growled in protest of his hunger. He rose and scaled the path to the garden. He knew he could not touch their dried meats, for it would serve as their winter store, and so, he began to climb one of the fruiting trees.

The summer sun had slightly withered the produce of the trees, but for Wander, it did not matter. His hunger would gladly accept it. Still, the wrinkled skin of the fruit and the softening flesh sat poorly in his mouth. When he swallowed it, Wander could not help but grimace. Again, he climbed one of the trees, for one fruit was hardly enough to satisfy a grown man. As he ate, Wander wore the same soured face, though he knew he would eat well. His belly wished for meat, and he was certain that later he would indeed have it. With such a thought, he stood and fetched his bow and quiver, which he had filled with arrows.

Recalling the dreams of that morning and wishing to entertain himself, he sought out his faithful companion. He had taken to waiting just outside the shrine, and that is where the steps of Wander brought him. Agro whinnied with joy when Wander approached him, and the horse placed his nose in the man's open palm. Wander stroked the animal, smiling as he did. He walked around the horse, running his hand over his ebony flank, stopping to place his cheek against it. Wander smiled as he felt the warmth beneath his skin.

"What's say we go for a ride?" Wander asked. No sooner did he speak those words than one leg and then the other bore him onto the horse's back.

All that day, the two friends raced around, searching for beast or bird that he could bring down with one or many of his arrows. When he had killed something large, Wander would cease his deeds only to bring the animal back to the shrine, hoping he could leave it on the floor without Mono noticing. He knew that she would not only scold him for riding Agro but also for, once more, slipping away from her. Yet, Wander cared not for whatever harsh words his mother would give him. In the midst of the hunt, he felt as though it was his proper place.

As he brought back a felled deer with Agro following loyally behind, Wander thought to himself if he acted as men did. When others called this land their home, did the men live only to hunt? He supposed they did, for he could see no other thing to do. Dropping the deer on the stones, Wander looked down at the dead animal, watching its blood pool on the ground. He knew not why, but he placed his hand into the flow of red and pressed it to his chest. It felt warm, but he did not feel at all dirtied by it, and so he placed his hand into the pool again and marked himself.

As he looked down upon the handprints in crimson, he wondered what else men did when they lived here. He did not know, but the thought came to him that perhaps they turned their bows and spears on each other when the animals grew scarce. But he thought no more of it. He thought of only returning to Agro and the rushing of the wind. When he found no prey, he would urge the horse into running as he did before, screaming at the top of his voice as if he were an animal himself.

All thoughts of what his mother had taught him, how to read and how to write, seemed of little value in such a place. "I don't need any of it," he proclaimed. "If I am a man, then I don't even need to listen!" And so, he continued on, until Agro slowed of his own will. Climbing down, Wander threw himself into the grass and lied down, just to watch the sky. Again, he felt the same strange pain drawing itself down his back as his heart continued to beat wildly. He did not know how to describe it. If he had, he might think of it as if a bear were running its claws down his back, though Wander had not seen such a beast. As he rested there, breathing deeply of the scent of the land, his heart slowed, and the pains subsided along with it. It seemed to Wander that his eyelids were growing weighty. He sighed a happy sigh before he closed them, only briefly.

When Wander opened his eyes, the sky had paled, and the clouds had turned from a bright shade of white to a gentle color of orange, as the afternoon grew old. The hunter sat straight up, realizing that he had fallen asleep. To his gladness, Agro still stood only a few steps from where he laid, idly bringing his head low to the ground. Quickly, Wander leapt to his feet and hurried to his friend. He could only imagine what Mono would say to him when he returned. While he had earlier thought himself above any reproach, he now feared her as any child would. Unwilling to delay what hurt words awaited him, Wander mounted his horse and turned him back the way they had come.

* * *

Mono sat with her back turned to Wander as he stepped soundlessly into the shrine. It seemed, to him, that she labored upon the killed dear he had left for her. For a moment, Wander thought he might avoid her anger. He wondered what she might say if she had seen him enter. Would she recoil at the sight of him, painted red with the blood of his prey? Would she again chastise him for his departure? He could not say, but he hoped that she would spare him such things.

Slowly and silently, he crept to his left. He held his breath at each place he stopped. Mono still worked to prepare the animal. Wander sighed happily, thinking he had evaded her.

"Stay right where you are, Wander," Mono instructed, not in anger, but in evident displeasure. She rose and turned towards him. Wander felt one foot slip over the other as his mouth formed itself into a slight grin, though it was hardly one of amusement or happiness. Her eyes fell upon his chest, and for a moment, the thought came to him that she now stared as he had often done in her presence. "Why are there bloody marks on you?" she asked. Wander felt his heart sink at the question, for he had hoped that perhaps she did indeed look upon him with such longing eyes. Her own arms were stained red as well from the deer she had worked on and some of her belly as well.

"You have them too, mother," he pointed out.

"Yes, but I didn't paint mine on. What do you think you are, son? Do you suppose that you're some kind of savage, painting himself like that?"

The word was strange to Wander's ears. He had not heard such a term, but it seemed to bring images of beasts, unlike any he had ever seen before into his mind. They were large, as tall as the shrine and wild, far more than any animal he had met. They took on horrible shapes, as his thoughts took in the word; shapes covered with streams of ebony, and symbols that curved and twisted in unnatural forms. They frightened Wander, and he knew not why. He did not even know what such darkened figures should come to his mind, for he had never seen such creatures before. It also brought him great fear to think that, perhaps, Mono thought of him as of their sort. All he could do was shake his head in unease.

"Then come, my son. Let us go wash, and then we had better eat. I have things to discuss with you."

She had brought Wander to a pool, the same one he had washed himself in earlier that morning. Mono sat him down in the grass and knelt down before him. After she had dipped her hands into the water, she rubbed the markings upon her son's chest. Wander knew not why, but he rather enjoyed the feeling of her palms, rough and worn as they were against his skin, though again, it brought a poor sensation in the depths of his belly. As he watched his marks fade and stream to the ground, he felt no cleaner as her hands continued to flit back and forth across him. When she had finished, Mono washed her own hands in the pool, before leading him away.

When they later sat in the shrine, partaking of meat roasted over the fire, silence lingered between them, except for the crackling of the burning wood. Wander found it strange that Mono said nothing before they ate, though he was glad of it. When the last of the meat was gone, his mother cleared her throat.

"I'm very disappointed with you, Wander," she began. "I told you earlier that if you had to leave the shrine to tell me first. What's worse is that you also took Agro when I expressly forbade you to ride him. Do you intend to kill me, son?"

At once, the frightful picture of his mother lying dead appeared before his eyes. "Why would I want to do that?" he asked, faltering slightly in his words. "I could never do that."

"Then why do you always disobey me?"

The reprimanded gave no answer. He let his eyes fall to the side, and he meekly stared at the floor as though he were now beaten. Just then, a spark lit within his heart, as it had those days ago. Her gentle words had soothed him then, but on this day, Wander felt that tiny flicker grow into a flame. He growled in his throat and stood sharply. Mono slowly rose as he did. His eyes narrowed as his eyes fell upon her.

"Am I not a man?" he asked hotly.

"We have had this talk before, my son."

"Answer me!" Mono drew back at his demand, for he had never spoken in so forceful a voice before.

"You are," she replied, at length.

"Then why do you treat me like I'm not? You always tell me what I can and can't do. If I want to ride Agro and go hunting, I will."

"My son, please listen."

"No," Wander snapped. He turned his back towards her, and folded his arms across his chest. He lowered his chin and raised his shoulders. He did not hear his mother as she came near, but he felt her hand come to rest upon his tightened back. At her touch, he let his shoulders fall loosely, though his anger did not abate.

"There is so much you do not know about what it means to be a man," Mono said. To Wander, she seemed saddened. "And it seems I have failed to teach you." She withdrew her hand, and Wander turned to see her slowly scaling the winding path to the garden. Her head was bent, and it was clear that he had wounded her. Wander stood there, unable to force even the slightest step. Her touch was light, yet it felt as if it had left a mark. The anger faded, and its dying flames left a bitter chill within him. After a time, he managed to will his legs to move, and he followed the same path his mother had taken.

He found her sitting on the ground alone in the garden. Her shoulders shook, and he could tell she was weeping. Wander thought that he should not approach her. But he could not make himself leave. With heavy steps, he came near to her and laid his hand upon her shoulder as she had done. As his hand met her skin, Mono drew away, and Wander did the same in astonishment. Now wounded himself, Wander turned to go. Down in the shrine, he sat himself in the shallow pit, thinking deeply. He did not know how long he had lingered in the empty basin, but as the evening gave way to the night, he saw Mono descending the path. He rose to meet her at the foot of the stone walkway, and when he did, he spoke the only words that he thought he should say.

"I'm sorry, mother." With the moonlight shining down upon them, Wander could see the light stains on her cheeks where her tears had fallen. He lifted his hand to her face and gently wiped them away with his thumb, and she did not shudder or pull away. Looking into her face, Wander felt as if he could now do as the man in his dreams had done and lower his lips upon hers, though the thought still made him feel ill. Yet, it also seemed as though she wished him to do that very thing. He reasoned that it would surely do no harm to kiss her, but before he could make the attempt, Mono opened her mouth.

"I know you are, son," said she. "You are a man, but I cannot teach you what that means." She gestured with her hand towards the garden above. "I have sat up there, and I have tried to find the words. I've even asked the gods what I should say to you, although I doubt they would give me an answer after what was done here."

"What was done here?"

"I don't think you're ready to hear that story, Wander. Let's not talk about it. I don't know what I can tell you. There is more to being a man than you think, but I don't even know how to tell you all of it. I suppose I've brought this on myself."

"What do you mean by that, mother?"

"Ah, maybe it's just the thinking of an old woman," Mono remarked, looking towards the doorway that led to the great chasm that had held them here. She slipped her hand over her heart, and Wander tilted his head in curiosity at the action and her words. Mono sighed. "I cannot teach you what it means to be a man; I've come to realize that there are things that you will have to learn for yourself, and one day, you'll learn that what you do has consequences, though I hope that day does not come soon. I don't suppose that I'll be able to stop you from riding."

"I want to ride him," Wander declared. "I don't know why, but when I ride Agro, it feels...right."

"If I can't prevent you," his mother began, "then please, take caution in riding him. Do not spur him on because he is not as young as he once was."

"But he's so fast, and it only makes it better."

"I am allowing you to ride, but I ask that you listen and do as I ask in return. Do not ride recklessly. Though I can't teach you how to be a man, learning to listen and to give is part of it. I know you hunt while riding him, and I'm willing to let you do that much. You don't need to ride him every day."

"But we need the meat, mother."

We have more than enough for this winter. You've brought in so much that we may have enough for next winter as well. I'm grateful that you've provided for us. You've done well, and I suppose that your hunting is better while you ride. But you have no need to hunt every day, and you certainly have no need to ride Agro to amuse or excite yourself. Please, Wander, promise me that, unless it is for hunting, that you will not take him as you have done."

Her request seemed different to his ears, though Mono had spoken words such as this before. To Wander, she did not speak as his mother, but rather as if she was no different from him. And so, he nodded in acceptance. Mono smiled, and lightly kissed his cheek as a mother might to her child.

"Thank you, my son," she said with pride in her voice. "Let's go to sleep now."

She turned to scale the path again, though Wander remained where he stood. His hand came up to his face, and his fingers splayed themselves out against his cheek where she had kissed him. For the slightest of moments, he had truly felt her lips. In that instant, he knew their softness, and it pleased him, though she had often kissed his cheek when he was a boy. Strangely and feverishly happy, Wander climbed the path, and laid himself down in the warm, though dry, grass. He went to sleep with a wide smile upon his face, though he knew he should not feel so glad. For despite the kiss, she was still, first and foremost, his mother.

* * *

**A/N:** Getting pretty steep isn't it? I hope this doesn't get too awkward for all of you, especially the beginning. I figured that Wander would use Agro as a way of self-medication for all the things he doesn't understand, and I doubted he would understand this.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. The next one will likely bring the promised doozy, and I promise this time it won't take so long to post. Anyway, I'd like to thank all the readers, old and new, for sticking with this. Dreamer and daimee, you've both made my day with your reviews. And I'd also like to thank one of my newest, luvJesusInHeaven. I'm always glad to attract new readers, and your comments made my day as well.


	13. Chapter 12: A Cold Morning

**A/N:** Ho, ho, ho merry Christmas. See, I told you it wouldn't take long to get this up.

The reason for this is because originally, this was part of the last chapter. Both of them were going to be the same, but as I kept writting, I thought it was going to be really long. So, I decided the only thing to do was split them into two chapters. I didn't intend to do it that way, but it just happened. So, you can really consider this an early Christmas present, although let me warn you, there's not a lot of comfort and joy.

* * *

**Chapter 12: A Cold Morning**

The days grew short as summer relented its heated grasp to make way for autumn. The air ceased to drip with its unseen cisterns emptied of their supply of water, and it brought comforting breezes to all those who had endured the middle of the year. Despite the slight chills, Wander and Mono were glad of the change in the land, though the grasses still pricked them as they walked and stones of the shrine grew colder at night. Still, mother and son were grateful to have the summer months behind them. The days turned from gathering and hunting to preparing as they often did in this season.

Wood that went unclaimed was found and put away. Reeds were reaped to craft into simple shoes for the snowy days. Mono recalled with no fondness the early times when she was forced to walk unshod upon the frozen blankets, and she did not wish for either her or her son to live through those days anew. She had also bidden Wander to put his bow and arrows away, for their own lives depended on the lives of the land. Wander grew quickly restless without his faithful companions, and also because of his promise that he would not ride unless it was in their company.

He had kept that promise well, though he had longed to simply put his legs upon the horse and let him run. He knew he would not find himself lost. Wander could easily find his way, and the heavy hooves of Agro left good tracks. Still, for the sake of his mother, he did not give in to the untamed notions that filled his head.

The nights brought newer tasks to Wander as well. Mono had taught him to use the count of the moon and to mark each one that waxed full. He knew well how to count, but it was the lot of his mother to keep the number. Now, she began to entrust the task to him. It was a simple task, but Wander performed it nonetheless.

This night, Wander watched as the shinning eye of the full moon gazed upon him. Taking the sharpened stone in his hand, he walked to a large boulder nearby where Mono took the count for that year. He drew the stone across it, leaving a white gash in the gray face. Before he would sleep, he looked upon each mark, now nine in all. Nodding with satisfaction, he dropped the stone he held and stood to walk the short distance to where Mono slept. He lied down in the grass, looking up at the sky, and doubted sleep would come to him.

Wander placed his hands behind his head. Many days he had longed to ride again, if only to feel the wind rushing to meet him as he urged Agro onward. He did not think that any other doing would provide the same livening elation as the foolhardy races he held with only the land as his opponent. His need to rid himself of the thoughts, feelings, and cares he held for Mono seemed to fade, though he still found himself questioning them. On only some occasions these past months did he again have that very dream which prompted the uncontrolled motions. Yet on those few happenings, he found his urge to ride increased many times over.

Still, he thought well of that kiss she had given him, small as it was. It was but the kiss of a mother, but Wander could not keep himself from thinking of it as something more familiar than affection brought by a natural bond. It was a foolish thought, to be sure. He knew that quite well.

Wander continued to gaze idly up at the stars in the cloudless sky, thinking about all of these things, though he allowed his thoughts to find smaller matters as well: the changing of the leaves, the clarity of the sky, the prickling at his back. It was these thoughts that brought a smile to this face until he was compelled to close his eyes.

* * *

The next day, Wander and Mono set themselves to again filling the walls of the shrine to seal the small crevices against the coming bitter gales. A scowl appeared on Wander's face as he pressed a handful dry earth and a few brown leaves into a small crack. He looked over at Mono performing the same task with a lighter face, and the shadow upon his own darkened. He wondered if she found any pleasure at the bargain they had struck. In the deep places of his heart, he knew it was not so, and yet he pondered it still. His blood still restlessly boiled within him. He could hear the bold neigh of Agro, though he often only imagined it. A chill wind blew across his naked chest, though it still little to cool Wander. He wanted to follow the wind as it beckoned him across the land. He wished to add his wild call to the blowing air. He longed to feel it beating against his body with no purpose behind it. And yet for the sake of his promise, he could not.

"Why can't I ride him except to hunt?" Wander muttered to himself. A part of him hoped that Mono would hear it, but she did not turn to him. He had often asked that very question in the silence of the night when sleep would come not to him. He wondered that if his mother perhaps knew of the bubbling and stirring within his veins, she might release him from his word. If she knew that he did this to spare her the longing glances and to spare him the shame he felt in casting them, then she might permit him to ride again if the mood should arise.

"How could I tell her?" Wander asked the wind. "She wouldn't want to hear about it. She might even take her spear to me if I did if I frightened her." The young man brought his hand against the wall with a might blow. Perhaps some small burr lingered upon the walls that weathered the years, but Wander gasped in pain, and when he brought his hand away, a running stain of red covered his palm. "Mother," he called out, and Mono hurried to him.

She also gasped when she saw his bleeding hand, and she hurried Wander inside. She found her old gown and tore at the hem until she held two pieces, and then she quickly led her son to a clean pond. She washed his hand and dried it with one torn cloth before binding the wound with the other.

"I suppose you'll have to stop helping me seal the cracks in the shrine for now," she said. "You should not let than hand get dirty. All of these years, we have both taken care, and now this happens." If he could see into her mind, Wander would have seen the wishing of a worried mother who now longed for the world beyond their land, where things like strong wine could better clean his hand. But this hope, he could not see, though he did much fear in her ears.

"I can still help," he said, believing that she feared for the coming winter.

"No, son," Mono answered. "I can't let you put that hand in the earth. That wound must stay clean. Now, go to the shrine and wait there." And so, Wander returned to the shrine with a fresh scowl upon his face. For the rest of the day, he idly paced and fretted about what had happened. He had merely cut his hand, and it seemed such a small matter to him. When the mealtimes came, Mono would join him and fetch pieces of dried meat and a few dried fruits. In the evening, Wander sighed with the tedium of that afternoon lingering in his mind, for he was certain that his mother would keep him in the shrine.

And keep him, she did. For three days, Wander did not step food outside the shrine. He was not permitted to leave nor handle any tool or task with his wounded hand. Each day, short as they were, seemed to span several. The chill in the air seemed to grow in strength, as did the heat within Wander. It had coursed through his blood, and now it seemed to pool within his belly. He paced the floors until he was certain the soles of his feet had become stone. He found himself very much like a deer or some other poor creature caught inside one of the snares that he had often set, although his trap was not at all constricting. The presence of his mother did little to ease him.

"Your hand will be well soon enough," she would say. Often she pressed her hand against his brow only to nod with odd satisfaction a moment later. He wondered why she did this, but did not think to ask. He did noticed that her touch did not stir him as it once did, though Wander owed it to his anger at his confinement. How could he think differently of her hand when he no longer took a certain notice of her presence? Each night, Wander would lie down, thinking only of when he might leave.

On the third night, Wander gazed off to his side and into the blackness, knowing that he looked upon his mother's back. Narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow, Wander turned to lie upon his other side.

"You won't keep me here," he said quietly. "You won't."

* * *

The fourth day came and passed, and Wander still was not bidden to leave. That day, he looked upon his hand to see a stain of dark red, far darker than running blood. It seemed black to his eyes, and he wondered if his wound had, by now, healed. He had prepared to remove the crude wrapping when Mono had intervened and stopped him.

"I will look at your wound, Wander," she had said. "When seven days have passed since then, I will look at it." Her words only aroused the frustrations of her son further, and a thought had come to him later as the afternoon waned.

"By whatever god this shrine is built to," he had said when Mono had left to return to her labors, "I will ride tonight, word or no word."

In the midst of that night, Wander rose from where he rested. His cheeks filled with heat as he considered what he was about to do. How often had Mono chided him for his disobedience? Though he had often consented to her wishes that he should not defy her, he had never once given a promise. It seemed that his word held a heavier weight than a word of ascent or even a simple nod. He wondered what might become of him if he went against her. What consequence might befall him as Mono had said? Would the gods strike him dead if he disobeyed this time? He knew not, but Wander doubted he could abide the restlessness any longer. And so, he slipped away into the night.

"It will only be a short ride," he said. "I can't be blamed for that."

When he found Agro, he mounted the great horse, hoping that his excited neighs would not wake his sleeping mother. Wander lightly kicked the animal in the side, and Agro dutifully ran. The wind again beat against his face as the rider took hold of Agro's mane. He closed his eyes to delight in the thrilling race, even as he began to count silently. When he reached a count of five, he pulled tightly on the hair, and Agro stopped. Wander then turned him, and urged him to run back towards the shrine. When they arrived, Wander slid off the horse and stroked his large nose with gratitude.

"Thank you," he told the animal with great happiness, before he slipped back to the garden and the spot that he had laid. With pleasure, he closed his eyes, thinking with gladness at what he had done. Mono would surely never know of this, and he had suffered no retribution. Wander thought himself clever for what he had done, and he soon drifted off to sleep with such notions still dancing about his head. Yet the saddened face of his mother joined in that dance as he recalled every occasion when he had disobeyed her. It was, however, one imagine in the presence of many favorable ones.

* * *

After the seven days had passed, Mono unbound Wander's hand to examine his wound. Wander cringed slightly at the sight of his palm blackened with dried blood, but Mono smiled when she saw it.

"It looks like it's healing well," she said, "and it doesn't look like there's anything wrong with it. I'd say you could probably go back to helping me."

Wander was glad to hear of it, for he now did not have to sit in the shrine, though he only eagerly awaited the ending of the waking hours when he might slip away to ride without care except for the distance. He kept a count, though it grew larger every night. The first, he had counted to five. The second, he let the count go to seven, and on the third, he only turned to return to the shrine at the count of nine.

Every time, he praised himself for again eluding the watch of his mother. And yet, for all of his successes, Wander could not shake away the shame that lingered on after the well-wishers had departed from him. He began to grow in fear of the night when he might awaken his mother, especially as the trees gave up their leaves. He knew all too well that even under unshod feet, the leaves would crunch, and he would surely be found out. As the garden became tinted with the orange and yellows of the fallen ones, Wander wondered if this night would bring about his certain undoing.

After four days, Wander stood back from the segment of the wall he had devoted his labors. The winds blew colder, and he was glad of the fur cloak his mother had made for him. Still, he would gladly face the chill head-on as he rode wildly that night. By now, his count had rose to fifteen, and he looked forward to his nightly meeting with his faithful friend. The afternoon sun shone down, and he and Mono left their work to eat.

As he sat in the shrine, Wander could not help notice Mono looking with longing in her dark eyes towards the chasm. Unable to keep his curiosity to himself, the young man spoke.

"What is you're looking for, mother?" he asked.

"Oh, it's nothing, my son," his mother replied. "I was just thinking of how much I would like a slice of bread or a piece of cheese."

Wander tilted his head with an uncertain look, for he had never heard of such things. Standing, he gestured to his weapons of choice, his loyal bow and arrows. "I don't know what those are, but I'm sure I could hunt them for you. Just tell me what they look like, and I'll start looking."

Mono could only laugh until she was forced to hold her side. "I'm afraid that you couldn't hunt for bread or cheese. No, I'm afraid you couldn't do that at all. Don't mind me, Wander. It's been so long since I've tasted either of them, and I suppose I miss that."

"If I can't hunt them, I can make them," Wander proclaimed. Mono again laughed, and though he could not see it, she thought to herself how she might explain what he would require to do so.

"I'm sure you would. But the only place you could is out there," she added, pointing towards the world beyond their own; a world that neither of them thought they would know. Mono stood and approached her son, and he likewise rose, wondering what she might want with him. To his surprise, she embraced him warmly. "I haven't told you this in such a long time, Wander," she began, "but I want you to know that you are the best son a mother could hope for. And I'm proud of you for listening to me."

At first, Wander had felt gladdened at her words. Yet, he could not help but think of the promise he had made. As her hands pulled him close, he thought he might push her away, as a bitter sensation ran in the depths of his belly before turning hard, as though he had eaten far too much. Instead of satisfaction, however, he felt a great sorrow at what he had done. When they parted, Wander could only stand, frozen, where he stood.

"What have I done?" he asked soberly when he stood again at the wall. "What have I done?"

Wander could not sleep that night, and he doubted he would find any glee in riding. And so, he only lied there in the grasses waiting for sleep to take him.

* * *

_They came out of the darkness, one right after the other. Wander appeared very small, and indeed he was when he looked up at them. Around him stood a ring of giants, some resembling animals that he did not know and some he could easily recognize. Others were formed in the shapes of men. He could only discern their shapes, for they were covered in a veil of black, with only their eyes glowing brightly providing light. He counted sixteen in their number. Wander knew not who they were, but they seemed oddly familiar to his eyes. As they looked down upon him and as he felt their gazes, weighty as surely the figures were, Wander felt a sense of dread, far worse than any he had known overtake him. From among the figures, another emerged from their midst. Unlike the others, this one had eyes of a most piercing white, and it had no shape, save for a seething, shifting dark cloud. To think that this other being also looked upon him only made Wander's fear grow a hundred fold._

_"Behold thy past," the figure said with no warmth in its voice. At once Wander knew it to be the strange voice that had haunted him since he was a boy. The sixteen shades began to move past their king, for that is how the bearer of that horrid voice seemed to Wander. Slowly they came near, and Wander could find no way of escape. Closer and closer they came. Wander could feel no gap, no doorway that he could run through. He could not even find his mother. They were upon him now, and Wander could do nothing but wait for the blow that was sure to come._

Wander sat straight up in utter fear. His hand fell over his heart, and pain coursed through his back as it often did. He looked around to see the stars. They flickered on as they always did. It was still in the dark hours of the night. He managed to keep a cry of terror stifled, for he was unwilling to wake Mono. He was not certain what he would tell her if he had. He was, however, certain of two things. This dream was unlike any he had ever dreamed before. He was also sure of the need to leave here, if only to bring him some enjoyment, little as he was sure it would be.

Carefully, Wander rose and made his way towards the path. He grimaced at every step he took. The fallen leaves crunched underfoot, and Wander had no intention of giving any explanation on this night. When he reached the path, Wander hastened his steps, but he did so only slightly. When he set foot in the shrine, Wander ran until he found himself outside, where Agro stood in a sleep of his own.

Gently, Wander stroked the horse's nose, until he let out a fearful whinny. Wander could not help but feel a new bond with him, even as he took a step back. Agro stood on his hind legs, and Wander, thought his friend might strike him without intent. When all of his hooves were on the ground, the young man reached out to run his hand over his nose again.

"Easy, Agro," he said softly, hoping to sooth the startled animal. "It's only me." Agro sniffed the hand upon him, and then he placed his nose against Wander's chest, before letting out another neigh, though this was of a gladdened sort. Wander ran his hand over the horse a few times more before he mounted him. He turned the horse away from the shrine and urged him forward.

Wander had no destination in mind. The only thing he knew was that he headed towards the south. At first, he kept Agro at a slow pace, and he kept his thoughts only on the dream. He recalled that voice, and he knew not what it could have meant when it spoke. He marveled with awe at the size of those sixteen shadows, and he wondered what they could signify. Though his dreams of Mono had pleased and had sickened him at the same instance, this new dream brought him fear and uncertainty.

"Does it mean something?" Wander thought aloud. "Could it mean something?" He did not know if a dream held any particular significance or if it was merely the cares of the day muddled together in sleep. Yet, he could not deny that the glowing eyes of the giants held some strange familiarity to him. He had never met the eyes of any such creature, and still it seemed to the rider that he had indeed looked into such a untamed gaze before.

Hoping to cast off his feared reflections, Wander urged Agro into a run. He cared not for his count, and he was certain he could find his way back before Mono would awaken. Besides, he had always wondered how far Agro could run. With that thought now taking the place of the unsavory considerations, Wander kicked the side of the horse again and again.

His heart thundered once more in his chest. The wind beat coolly and swiftly against his face. The rhythm of Agro's strides caused him to bob wildly about. And Wander greatly enjoyed all of it. He had not forgotten how it pleased him to ride as he now did, though it seemed as though he had only now begun. He was glad to have no need to keep a count of how far he had gone as this single race went on and on. Wander thought he would surely see more of the land beyond his small circle of it. The ground began to slope, and the rider goaded Agro on once again.

With each new beat of his heart, Wander felt the same grabbing, clawing, biting pain running across his back, but he cared little for it. If he could not say what caused it, he thought he had no need to concern himself over it. He began to think that perhaps this was the natural outcome of such enjoyment. Yes, even Mono must have felt these very same sensations, though he found it strange that delight should also bring pain. Still, he thought little of it as they came rapidly to the foot of the hill. Yet, with each step, Wander felt the pain grow worse. He could not describe it, for his mind was kept towards his merry ride. As the pair continued onward and ever faster over the protests of Agro, he thought he might cry.

When he thought he could bear it no longer, Wander, at once, found himself unseated. He felt his body lurch sharply forward and then fall slowly to the ground. In the middle of the air, he felt himself turning, until he was looking up at the night sky. He felt the earth stop him with a sudden thump, and the world seemed to grow cloudy for a moment. With a shake of his head, the fog around him seemed to lift, and Wander let out a soft moan.

A dull ache settled into his back, taking the place of the sharper pain that had now ceased. His head likewise ached, and his heart continued to beat wildly, though it soon began to settle. Aside from his back and head, Wander did not think himself hurt. He was not sure what had happened or where he had ridden. Though he could see nothing, Wander felt his heart fill with a strange, solemn feeling, as if he had intruded on a place that he should not go. At once, he thought of Agro. He could not hear the horse, for he had not let out any sound.

"Agro!" Wander called out. Only the grave silence of this strange place came in reply. Taking a few steps away, Wander cupped his hands and shouted again, "Agro!" Again, he heard nothing. Turning his steps back from where he had fallen, Wander sprinted back, thinking he might find his old friend. As he blindly raced through the grasses, he felt himself fall forward again, having tripped over, what Wander supposed was a rock. He did not land upon the earth, however. He had fallen over some object. It was large, and it felt quite recognizable against Wander's chest. It was not made of earth or stone but flesh.

"Agro," Wander said with happiness, running his hand over the horse's flank. "I'm glad I found you." He stood and looked back from where they had come. "Come on," he added. "Let's go home." Even in the darkest part of the night, Wander could tell the horse had not moved. He returned to the side of his friend and knelt. "Come on, Agro," he said, now with some concern in his voice.

He let his hand come to rest on the side of the animal. He felt no rising or falling as he expected he would. His face twisted in confusion as he moved his hand here and there upon the horse, and still he felt nothing. "You can't rest now. Please, get up," Wander bade. The horse did not move. Wander tried to stir him, but Agro remained still. Wander shrugged and laid himself down upon Agro's flank.

"It'll be dawn soon, so I guess you can rest until then. But you better be ready to run when the sun comes up." Noting the heaviness of his own eyes, Wander thought he might sleep as well.

* * *

The sun was not yet finished in its rising when Wander awoke. He yawned and rose, stretching as he did. Taking a few steps, he let his eyes face northward, and he let out a groan of displeasure. It was a cold and cloudy morning, though the sun still gave light through its veil. Wander hugged himself against the chill, but it was not only the bite of the morning that sent shivers through him. He did not look towards his return home with any eager expectation. By this time, Mono would surely have awoken, and she would find him gone. Wander was sure he would face a stern lecture, though he supposed his deeds would merit it. He supposed that he it would be best to not prolong the coming reprimand, and so he looked back to where Agro still laid.

"It's time to wake up, Agro," Wander said. The horse did not move. Wander titled his head at his stillness and ran to his friend's side. He looked into his face. Agro's eyes had remained open, and yet they seemed to gaze upon nothing. Wander dropped to his knees. He did not know how to rouse such an animal, even though he had done so the night before. He vigorously rubbed his flank, thinking it would awaken him.

"Come on, Agro," he pleaded. "You have to get up." He did not understand why the horse did not rise or why his eyes had stayed open. "Get up!" Wander shouted. His hand grew still. Agro's flank felt so cold beneath his palm. He could still feel nothing. No breath was taken, and it filled Wander with such fear. He stood sharply. "Get up!" he shouted again, now with a tear in his eye, though he knew not why he should cry.

He looked about the place he had come to spend that night. He knew he could recognize the stones scattered around. One seemed to form into a doorway, though he did not think to explore it.

"Mother will know what to do," he said, though his voice did not sound at all hopeful. He turned his feet towards the way he had come. Wander took one last look towards the unmoving Agro. "I'm sorry to leave you here," he added with a strange sadness, "but Mother will know how to wake you. Don't worry, Agro, I'll be back."

And then he started off back towards the shrine.

* * *

**A/N:** I told you it would be a real doozy. Believe me, I didn't want to do this. As someone who's had a similar experience with an animal friend, I really hated to do this. But I could see no other way to make the story progress. I also hated to make Wander this naive, but he really hasn't had much experience in matters of death, at least not in his new life and certainly not this sort.

Anyway, if you didn't guess, the figures in Wander's dream are the Colossi, at least the, well, shadows of the Colossi. I figured he'd still have some memory of them, even if they haven't come to the surface yet.

I'd also like to apologize in adavnce if I got the lay of the land wrong. I figured the spot Wander would end up is the place people call Grave Fields or something like that. At least that was the name the Wiki gave it. I thought it was somewhere to the south of the shrine based on the map, but again, it doesn't really help that I still haven't played the game. So, for the purists out there, please go easy on me.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this early Christmas present, although it really isn't all that merry. Still, I hope that you liked it. All of you readers have been the best gift a writer could ask for.


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